Unfinished Business
by Tabby J Skylark
Summary: Rose has unfinished business in the afterlife. She thought she had closure, but she was mistaken. Rose can't rest in peace until she's dragged every skeleton from her closet, kicking and screaming...
1. Chapter 1

**UNFINISHED BUSINESS**

**Chapter One **

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from James Cameron's _Titanic_ or Tim Burton's _Beetlejuice._

A/N: I've always been intrigued by the afterlife in Tim Burton's _Beetlejuice. _I realize it seems very strange to apply it to Titanic – especially for a serious story – but this idea has been nagging at me for over a decade now. This is NOT a crossover with the Burton film in any way. I'm just using that caseworker system and building on it.

This chapter is primarily setup. I apologize if it is slow. It will pick up in subsequent installments…

**oooooooo**

Rose sat staring at her extremely long, coiling strip of white paper. It read the following number: 7, 567, 372, 998, 278, 554, 893, 489.

When she first pulled it from the dispenser she assumed there had been a malfunction. Too many numbers had printed, surely. This had to be a mistake. Alas, everyone in this waiting room had a similar number. There was a miserably long wait, the sort of wait that drove a person mad. Fortunately, she had her thoughts of occupy her.

While others looked blank, reading magazines or dozing off, Rose was thinking deeply. She was thinking about her life and about the afterlife that would soon begin. She'd lived a very long, eventful life and had no regrets. Seeing Titanic again had been the perfect closure.

So why was she here?

Why was she in limbo with those who had "unfinished business"…?

"2, 567, 345, 234 – Robbins." The receptionist barked.

Meanwhile, a dazed man with a grisly skull wound stood in the middle of the room, having just arrived. "Take a number and sit down, buddy. You're blocking the door." The receptionist ordered with tired impatience. She'd clearly had enough of her tedious and repetitive job.

Rose briefly glanced at the tired woman behind the desk. Her miserable disposition did nothing to ease the transition from life to death. Many new arrivals were confused, anxious, angry or in sheer denial. It was a transition some really struggled with and yet this woman lacked compassion entirely. It was hard for the kindhearted Rose to sit and watch for hours...

There was something unnatural about the woman's skin, but that wasn't why people stared. Most souls looked unnatural here. They stared because something separated this receptionist from them. Rose had been here just long enough to start wondering about that divide. Who were these workers? Were they real souls like the rest or just an illusion?

"_My, my. You need a vacation, dear." An elderly woman was concerned._

_The receptionist just snorted, "Not happening."_

Rose was shaken from this memory by a gurgling, watery voice nearby: "It's very rude to stare!"

Her eyes shot over to a drowned man, wet and rotten. He was glaring angrily at a girl who was clearly distressed by the sight of him. "What? Think you're the only person who died tonight?" He snarled, clearly very offended.

Rose had learned right away not to stare at other souls and not to react to their often grisly appearances. Many in this waiting room had died recently and emotions ran very high. Moreover, it was clearly a faux pas to judge anyone by their physical appearance here as it could not be controlled and was quite personal.

Rose had quickly realized she appeared young again in limbo. Her hands and feet had given it away almost immediately. And her voice, of course.

There were no reflective surfaces here, but she had discreetly felt her face and hair. She could see red ringlets at the edges of her vision. She assumed she was one of the few who looked as they had in life, though assumptions were risky here.

"_Excuse me. Where's the bathroom? I think something's wrong with me." A teenaged girl approached the reception desk, touching her face. She looked like a zombie now and was starting to figure it out. The panic was slowly building._

"_There are no bathrooms anymore." The receptionist answered unkindly. _

There wasn't much of anything anymore. Just a waiting room and whatever lay on the other side of it. Rose watched many pass through the mysterious door when their number was called and she wondered endlessly about what might be waiting for her there.

What sort of unfinished business did she have? Was she to be reunited with Jack? She'd always hoped the afterlife would reunite them! Now it finally seemed like a true possibility!

She glanced around the waiting room. There were no clocks of any kind… no reflective surfaces of any kind… Hmm… Vanity was clearly unacceptable here. Rose did her best not to touch her face or hair at all. She didn't want to provoke anyone.

"2, 567, 345, 253 – Ming."

The lady beside Rose had been shifting nervously for some time now. Finally, she turned to Rose and smiled, trying to hide her confused anxiety. "This is certainly a strange dream… I guess I've been thinking too much about death lately… Imagine if death was really like THIS?" And she forced out an awkward laugh.

The drowned man snorted.

Rose said nothing, knowing from experience it was pointless. Everyone accepted their circumstances in their own good time.

A headless woman leaned forward – "Could you please pass me another magazine?"

Rose passed a few magazines politely, trying very hard to act naturally. Yet it was difficult to find that balance between staring and avoiding eye contact. It was important to act completely natural and yet it was such a challenge.

"2, 567, 345, 254 – Martinez."

Martinez stepped forward, whispering to the receptionist sadly – "The last thing I remember was the plane diving…"

"Pass through, please." The receptionist sounded tired.

Rose bit her lip. The total lack of sympathy was really starting to irritate her.

Dozens more passed through.

A sweaty man in a jogging suit who had arrived before Rose woke from a nap and glanced up at the screen where the current number appeared. Realizing he was DAYS from his appointment, he grumbled, "They need more caseworkers."

"It's not like you don't have time, pal…" A Brooklyn accent mumbled.

"2, 567, 345, 286 – Chan."

Rose sometimes wished there _was_ a clock. Other times she was thankful there wasn't one. She had no idea how long she had been waiting. Her mind kept playing over everything she hoped lay ahead…

Suddenly someone had had enough. Springing to his feet, a man started shouting, "I want to go outside now. I want to go OUTSIDE!"

But there was no outside. Nothing existed for them at the moment beyond the room. No one acknowledged the outburst and after a moment the man sat down again and fell back into silence and waiting.

"2, 567, 345, 292 – Lane."

The anxious woman beside Rose was wringing her hands. The man's sudden outburst had the wheels in her head turning again. She smiled to herself uneasily, "This is just foolish. Dreams are eventful. Who ever heard of a WAITING dream?

The jogger sighed loudly, "I've got to stop waiting in here with the newbies."

"Are you kidding?" Someone called over. "They're the only entertainment!"

Time dragged slowly and eventually a young man approached the reception desk. He was hesitant, looking uncertain.

"Excuse me…" He was extremely polite. "I'm really sorry to bother you. I realize you're overworked. I just have a few very quick questions. I've been waiting patiently-"

"Your caseworker will answer your questions." She didn't even look at him.

"That's just it. I don't understand this caseworker thing." He admitted quietly. "What's-"

The receptionist looked at him now, "Look, kid. This is purgatory. You've got unfinished business. Just sit down and wait for a caseworker to help you resolve it. _Oracle _is not in my job description…"

He looked crestfallen. "Thanks anyway." He turned away slowly.

Rose, unable to help herself, gave this girl a cold, hard stare. It was the look she generally reserved for unimaginable bastards.

Noticing, the receptionist snapped harshly, "Problem?"

"Who sucked the soul out of you?" Rose asked quietly.

The receptionist tiredly smirked, "Funny you should ask…"

**oooooooo**

Rose woke from a long, peaceful nap. She had been dreaming about dancing with Jack Dawson. REM sleep brought Jack to her often since seeing her drawing on television. Hopefully once she crossed over to the afterlife he'd be waiting there for her.

She wanted to see her husband, of course, but she'd been waiting to reconnect with Dawson for a very, very long time now. Did he know she'd kept her promise? She hoped he knew about all her adventures and her children and about dying warm in her bed. She'd definitely kept her end of the bargain. After so many decades she deeply longed to reconnect.

A girl with bright pink skin turned to Rose, noticing she was awake. "SO…" she said loudly. "How did you die?"

Rose was taken aback by this question. She had been waiting a long time now and she knew people didn't chat, especially about such personal things. This girl seemed socially awkward.

"UGH." The jogger was irritated. "SO rude."

"You don't have to answer that." The headless lady interjected.

"I don't really know…" Rose admitted. "Um… old age?"

"Lucky." The pink girl smirked. "Were you really old?"

"Extremely old, actually." Rose admitted. "I guess I am rather lucky."

"YA. Now wanna SHUT UP about it?" A young man with a thick pipe sticking through his stomach barked at her from across the room.

Rose winced and gave him an extremely apologetic expression.

It was best to stay silent in this room and yet this pink girl never seemed to take a hint.

"WELL…" The chatterbox shifted in her chair to get comfortable and start yammering. "MY death was rather unique. You see-"

The receptionist suddenly slammed a book down loudly on her desk. "NO more personal talk!" She snapped sternly.

The pink girl muttered something about 'boring' and then crossed her arms, looking away…

**oooooooo**

Rose finally passed through the doors. The suspense was unbearable. She had no idea what to expect, but she was certain it was going to be _mind blowing._ She'd waited so long for this moment!

UH…

She found herself in an administrative area. Some sort of office. The room was full of desks, office workers and an abundance of paper.

How anticlimactic. How utterly disheartening.

There were many desks here and each had a long line before it.

"More waiting. Wonderful." She muttered to herself, looking around.

Fortunately for Rose, her line was moving twice as fast as any other. The handsome administrative office she'd been assigned to was just plowing through paperwork like a machine. The other workers didn't seem half as effective as he was.

"We're luck to have this guy." The elderly man behind Rose smiled at her.

Rose studied the different people waiting in each line. There seemed no rhyme or reason to where you were assigned.

"Well, at least our feet can't hurt." A curly haired girl in the next line tried to be friendly. Rose just gave a smile, tired smile. Sure, the body didn't hurt anymore… but the _soul_ still grew very tired…

Closer now, Rose studied the paper pusher's face. He looked exhausted and incredibly _absent_, yet his hands were quickly going through the motions with determination. While he was handsome, he was terribly disheveled. He made no conversation and was clearly rundown. There were dark circles under his eyes, his hair was a sweaty mess and his tie and shirt collar were very loose. He looked like he'd been to Hell and back again.

Nevertheless, he worked with quick and methodical efficiency…

Finally, Rose found herself sitting across from him. As he processed her papers he didn't even bother to look at her.

This immediately reminded her of the frazzled receptionist.

She decided to speak to him. "That receptionist does nothing to ease the transition. You think they'd find a more suitable greeter for the afterlife."

He ignored her comment completely. He seemed cold and disconnected.

Rose swallowed uncomfortably. These workers were apparently all exhausted and unfriendly. Were they real souls like herself… or were they just illusions conjured to drive the system?

Rose was tempted to ask the man directly if he was real. She'd always been one to speak her mind. Yet something warned her it was a very bad idea. Deep down she suspected these workers were real souls like herself… real, but somehow _enslaved_…

"What happens now?" She asked him finally.

"Hm?" His eyes glanced up, hands still working quickly. His eyes were tired, but serious and attractive.

"What happens now?" She repeated patiently. She didn't blame him for being absent and rundown if he was some kind of desk slave.

"You're on Vespasian's caseload." The man shuffled her papers. "I'll be handling your paperwork."

Vespasian? What an unusually Classical name. Literally of the Roman era.

"And this Vespasian will help me address my personal issues so that I can rest in peace?"

"Yes. Have him sign all these forms and return them to me promptly." Her officer wasn't even looking at her.

Rose was curious about his soulless way. He was a train wreck like the others, certainly… but he was clearly a survivor. There was nothing pathetic about this guy. He was a mess, but he was persevering. There was an underlying determination there that she appreciated.

"Third door on the left. Good day." He still didn't look at her.

"Good day." Rose nodded absently, taking leave.

"Miss!" He called after her sharply.

Whirling around abruptly, Rose felt a strange familiarity.

"Your papers." He held the papers out.

She stared at the man in confusion. The déjà vu was unmistakable.

"Have we done this before?" She asked him faintly.

He wasn't fazed by her question. In fact, he probably heard it all the time from confused newcomers. At any rate, he was distracted and overworked.

He glanced at her, absent and unfeeling, "I don't believe so."

She hesitated and then asked unexpectedly, "Do you ever leave your desk?"

He actually looked at her now. Their gazes locked for a moment. Finally – "Third door on the right, madam. Good day."

"I'm sorry." Rose frowned, knowing she'd overstepped. "Good day to you."

**oooooooo**

Rose came to the third door marked VESPASIAN.

She knocked… and when there was no answer… she slowly entered…

"Morning, Rose!" A friendly voice called. "Come in, come in. What would you like to drink? Hopefully pop coz I'm not a fan! We didn't have it in my day."

The friendliness was extremely refreshing after such a long frost.

Yet Rose was taken aback. He was dressed like a Roman legionnaire! He was literally wearing golden armor, a stately red cape and there was a large red plume flowing from his helmet.

He was blonde, blue eyed and appeared to be in his early 30s.

"UM…" She hesitated.

The young man sensed her apprehension and smiled encouragingly. "Don't be shy! Come in! Close the door and take a seat here."

"Vespasian?" Rose ventured as she sat down.

"Call me Pazy. I'll be counseling you." He was incredibly casual.

And then he realized Rose was confused by his armor and laughed. "People always react that way. I died 2000 years ago! People need to get over the whole Roman thing. If anything, it makes me incredibly qualified as a caseworker. It's RARE to find a caseworker who hasn't been dead at least a millennium. You need real experience! I've been at this a LONG time now, Rose."

"I'm sorry. I'm very confused. This is all new to me."

"No worries." He was friendly. "I'm sure that 14 year wait has left you pretty drained."

"14 years?" Rose gasped.

"There were a lot of souls ahead of you." He shrugged. "Pop?"

"No, thank you." Rose blinked, still clearly shocked.

"Ya…" Pazy tossed the unopened can in the trash. "It's good to stay away from this crap. Probably why you lived so long, eh?"

She didn't react, so he just continued – "Now, Rose… we've got A LOT of skeletons in your closet to work through. Mainly due to the fact you walked out on your first life."

Rose felt her face warm up immediately. This wasn't what she'd been hoping for at all. This was going to be extremely personal and embarrassing and this fellow hardly seemed professional.

He was flipping quickly through her file. "HMM… OK… a lot here…"

Rose watched him reading.

Finally, he looked up at her. "Wanna start with the mother issues?"

"Excuse me?"

He glanced up. "You had a messed up relationship with your mother. Subconsciously you never actually resolved any of it. You just ran away. You need to work through these 'mother issues' before your soul can finally rest in peace…"

Rose's face reddened and she tried to cover her embarrassment with an incredulous laugh. "This is ridiculous. I can't believe I'm being subjected to this nonsense… A Roman legionnaire scrutinizing my life…"

Pazy shrugged it off, clearly not bothered by her comment. "You've always had mixed feelings about abandoning your mother to destitution. You've always wrestled with some guilt over her fate. Your ex-fiancé awkwardly tried to do right by her financially when they parted company, but your death and her desperate situation pushed her over the edge and she was eventually institutionalized."

"We are NOT having this conversation." Rose was still trying to force an incredulous laugh. "You don't know the first thing about—"

Pazy spoke sympathetically, "I'm a caseworker, honey. This is my job. I don't take pleasure in making you upset or uncomfortable. Unfortunately, if you want to cross over to the afterlife, you need to address these issues. You can't bury them any longer."

There was a long, miserable pause before Rose started abruptly trying to defend herself…

"Her insistence on a life of luxury at my expense—" Rose started.

"Eh, eh, eh…" Pazy raised a hand. "I'm not trying to argue. Or pass judgment."

"She was forcing… I was suicidal…" Rose stammered.

"It's a skeleton in your closet. You still feel badly on some level about the whole mess."

"But—"

"Just remember: The only person you have to answer to is yourself. Once you've made peace with your past you'll be free."

Rose didn't know what to say. This was just miserable.

"OK. So here's how it works." Pazy stood up. "We're going to revisit some of your memories together and work through your feelings and come to terms with the whole thing bit by bit. It's going to take some time and effort, but we'll talk through it all. Once you have sincere closure on one issue, we'll move on to another issue."

Rose looked uncomfortable. This was all very private.

"I know it's not fun, but we've got to work through this stuff if you're ever to be at rest. And trust me; you WANT to be at rest."

"What is the after life like?" Rose frowned. "Heaven?"

"I have no idea." Pazy answered truthfully. "I've never been."

"Will I be reunited with lost loved ones?" Rose asked hopefully.

"Possibly. I know nothing of the other side. I've never been and I'll never get to go. Besides, they could be here working through their own issues." Pazy shrugged nonchalantly.

"Can you check for me please? Is there a way?"

"What do I look like, sweety? A paper pusher? I don't have these kind of answers. I play head doctor 24-7. I'm sorry."

"Could the admin-"

"ER, I shouldn't have said anything." Pazy rolled his eyes. "NO. The administrative officers are not allowed to give out that kind of information. They don't have time to search through those endless, endless records anyway. This isn't magic land."

Rose immediately thought of her tired admin officer. Did he have access to that kind of information? Could she safely ask him to help her?

And then she frowned, "But I just want to know about my…"

"Former lovers. I know, I know. You've got unfinished business." Pazy smiled kindly. "I get it… You'll get your answers someday, I'm sure. For now just focus on crossing over. You're extremely lucky to be able to."

He kept making these little comments. She finally could no longer hold back her curiosity – "Are you a soul like me?"

"Exactly like you. Only I've been dead centuries longer."

"Why don't you cross over?"

He shrugged, "I can't."

"Why not?"

Pazy hesitated… and then he seemed to choose his words very carefully…

He decided on: "I'm a caseworker."

"But why? How-"

"Rose, honey – Rule #1 around here… Don't ask personal questions like that. Never ask about a person's death or their unfinished business or their physical appearance or any of that jazz. It's bad form and considered extremely rude."

"But how will I ever understand?" Rose frowned.

"You don't NEED to understand. Your task is to focus on YOURSELF and crossing over. Death is personal. You aren't to waste time analyzing the limbo you find yourself in… or bother other people about THEIR personal journey. OK? You wouldn't like someone prying into your skeletons! This is all private and individual. People are incredibly sensitive here."

Rose looked down at her feet.

"Did I emphasize enough words? Is there some comprehension here?"

Rose sighed. "I understand that I'm not to understand."

"You're cute. I liked that." Pazy smiled.

"Are you so sensitive because you're being punished? Is this your hell?"

"This is purgatory. A place of transition for most souls. Now stop asking personal questions! It's none of your business why I'm a caseworker."

"I'm sorry." Rose frowned.

"It's ok. You're new and confused and don't know any better. There are tons of chatterboxes who DO know better though. I don't want you to become like that. It's tactless and insensitive."

She nodded sadly.

"OH – and don't chat about your own circumstances too freely."

"Not everyone has been as fortunate as me." She nodded again.

"Smart girl." Pazy gave her a quick wink.

"OK, now…" He strode forward briskly. "I think we've got time to do one quick memory. An introductory sort of thing just to give you a sense of the kind of work we'll be doing together… It's a good chance for me to go over all the rules with you. Coz the rules are important!"

"Oh, well, I—" Rose replied uncertainly.

Pazy interrupted, "Don't touch anything and don't leave my side."

His office transitioned into a familiar scene. Rose looked around, recognizing a long forgotten bedroom. She was still sitting, but the chair had transitioned with the scene. It blended in perfectly now.

Voices came from the other room and Pazy glanced around the corner. Understanding what he saw, he returned to Rose.

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Now – a few super quick, but extremely important rules before we listen to this little conversation… It's an insignificant conversation so you can just get a feel for memory hopping…"

Pazy then bluntly stated the rules, as though memorized:

"(1) Do NOT stray from the scene. It's dangerous for you to go too far from where we are to be. (2) Keep your distance and always whisper. The living generally won't hear or see the dead, but there are some rare exceptions and we need to play it safe and not draw attention to ourselves. It's important they do not see you. (3) Don't TOUCH anything. Especially not people!"

Rose looked at the chair she was sitting in.

"Well…" Pazy frowned. "You can sit on things. I often do. Just be DAMN careful nobody sits down on top of you. The consequences are disastrous. We are not to touch the living under any circumstances. OK?"

"How are they alive if this is a memory?" Rose asked.

"Whisper." Pazy reminded her lightly. And then he answered, "This is more like time travel, honey. That's why it's crucial you aren't seen and that you don't disturb anything. Just hang back and be quiet. Good rule overall."

The voices in the other room grew louder. Clearly people were about to enter this room.

Rose stood up in anticipation.

Pazy winked at her and took her hand, pulling her into the corner out of the way of the coming action. "Just stay still and silent and watch the scene. No need to be anxious." He whispered in her ear, barely audible.

**oooooooo**

Within a few short minutes Rose found herself in Pazy's office again. Everything had transitioned so suddenly she felt physically ill.

"UGH…" She clutched herself. She wanted to vomit.

"Sorry." Pazy was apologetic. "I'll try to transition slower. Some people are sensitive to it. Hopefully you'll get used to it."

Rose found her way into the chair, looking sickly.

"That ex-fiancé is a piece of work, eh? YIKES." Pazy made a face. "Talk about bad programming. I don't even wanna KNOW what that childhood was like."

Rose frowned, "He seemed tolerable in the very beginning. Rich, handsome… mother and I were in trouble…"

Pazy shook his head. "He had potential. Actually connecting with another person would have made all the difference, I'm guessing. He was so detached."

"He was prejudice, controlling and too angry inside." Rose said coldly. "He was misanthropic."

"You're lucky we all speak the same language in death." Pazy smirked. "Coz that's an unnecessarily fancy way of putting it. Dude was a HATER. That's what you mean."

"His presence was poisoning me." Rose frowned.

"There was a darkness there, that's for sure." Pazy whistled. "Someone that rich and handsome not married by 30 in that era… I dunno…"

Rose looked away. She didn't want to talk about this.

Pazy picked up on her body language instantly. He sighed, "You know… In his mind, he was jumping through hoops to win your heart. He was literally dropping millions of dollars without hesitation because he hoped it would end your frostiness to him. Do you have any idea how much that historic rock cost? He was spending WAY beyond his means…"

"He always thought throwing money at problems would make them go away. But gifts don't replace communication, love or happiness."

"That's how he was raised." Pazy shrugged indifferently.

Rose was suddenly irritated, "I thought you wanted to start with mother."

Pazy shrugged. "Today's just an introduction. Besides, it's all connected. It's this whole _abandoned first life_ thing."

"But I died with such closure." Rose disagreed. "I don't understand why I have to be subjected to—"

"The subconscious is a funny thing." Pazy shrugged. "Your conscious mind may have thought everything was dandy… but a gal doesn't end up in purgatory by mistake."

And then he tapped on the large hourglass on his desk. The sand was nearly spent. "OK, cutey. We're good for today. This has been a promising introduction! I just need to sign some forms here and we'll call it a session."

"I don't feel any better." Rose interrupted. "I feel WORSE."

"Relax. This is a very long process. You don't drag out skeletons overnight."

"But-"

"It's gotta hurt before it heals. Trust me. I've done this a trillion times. Literally. You're a smart girl. You'll work through your issues faster than most do, I'm sure. But it takes time nonetheless. OK?"

Rose looked unimpressed, but knew there was nothing to say.

"I need to move on to another case. Sorry. I hate to kick ya right out the door, but it's fast paced around here. There isn't a second's pause. Believe me. I'd do _anything _to slow things down. I've been burned out for centuries now…"

"Oh no! Don't tell me I have to go back to that waiting room!"

"There are many waiting areas. Now that you've been processed you can wait in whichever one you like. Occupy yourself. But don't worry – no wait will ever be as long as that first one. You're in the system now. I have a set number of cases. I won't take on anyone new until I've had a successful crossing. You're a priority."

Rose wanted to complain about the staff and then thought better of it.

Instead she said, "The waiting drives one mad…"

He handed her the forms. "OK. Return these to your paper pusher."

As Rose opened the door to leave, Pazy called after her unexpectedly. "Hey – If it was me, I'd take a nice long nap. Enjoy a dream."

Rose nodded politely, not sure what to say.

Pazy was a cheerful, upbeat person and it had never occurred to her that he might be tired like the other workers. She made a mental note never to complain about the staff or the waiting periods again.

**oooooooo**

Rose decided to take a little detour before returning to the admin area. She had time to kill and she was growing very curious about this place – despite Pazy's instructions NOT to be.

She thought to herself – _How can he just expect me to sit around mindlessly? _

As she rounded the bend she saw a middle aged man with orange tinted skin filling a little cup of water at a cooler.

"Good day." She smiled politely.

"I'd be cheerful too if I had a future." He snorted.

Rose blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Never mind." He sighed bitterly. "I've got work to do."

She watched him wander away slowly and tiredly…

What separated the workers from the other souls? Were they being punished for something?

"Carbon monoxide." She was startled by a voice behind her.

She turned and saw a janitor mopping the floor.

"I beg your pardon?" Her pulse was still racing.

"Meh." The janitor shrugged. "I just suspect he went to sleep in his garage on purpose… if ya know what I mean…"

Rose had no idea what that meant.

The custodian pushed his wheeled bucket down the hall. Rose watched him slipping away. And she couldn't resist. Here was someone willing to talk about forbidden things. This was her big chance to figure things out.

"What determines if someone is free or enslaved?" She asked bluntly.

He stopped rolling and turned to face her. She waited for an answer.

So he pulled his shirt collar down and revealed a deep, dark bruising around his throat. Like a rope had encircled it. And then he continued down the hall.

A memory from life came back to Rose sharply. Boring chatter at tea with ladies she couldn't bother to remember. But someone said something casually… just a silly little comment…

_Well, you know what they say about people who commit suicide… they become slaves in the afterlife…_

**oooooooo**

Rose couldn't stop thinking about herself hanging off the back of the Titanic. The freezing water had been rushing below her. It would have been a horrible way to die and then she would have found herself enslaved for all eternity in purgatory. The thought was alarming. Jack had saved her from a truly horrible fate.

Rose was more grateful to Jack than ever now. He really had saved her in every way possible! He'd even saved her soul…

She watched a zombie-like worker with frizzy hair clicking away on a typewriter for a solid hour. Rose just kept staring. It didn't even register that she wasn't suppose to stare, she couldn't help herself. Typing away for all eternity.

It was a sad thought. Exhausted and imprisoned… never to be reunited with loved ones… never able to rest…

Jack had saved her from eternal slavery! She really hoped she'd get to thank him for everything he'd done for her – in life and death.

Rose found herself thinking about all the people who had committed suicide in history. Like Cleopatra. Suddenly that love story didn't seem so romantic anymore. Cleo was probably a coffee girl now!

OH! Pazy. Her caseworker Pazy must have committed suicide.

She felt her stomach twist at the very idea. He was such a happy fellow!

"You'd better get those forms processed." An older man nudged her.

"Oh." Rose was jarred back to reality.

"HM. You're with Pazy too, eh? Cheerful young man."

And then Rose blurted out – "He couldn't have committed suicide!"

This man smirked, "You know the old Roman way – death before dishonour. Fall on your sword rather than let the enemy take you. You know what I mean."

That made a great deal of sense.

"There must be A LOT of Romans here." He chuckled and walked away.

Rose watched him walk away, disliking how he'd laughed. Pazy was a silly guy… but he'd clearly been sensitive about any discussion of his death or his inability to cross over. These people were trapped. There was nothing FUNNY about it at all.

And then she remembered her paperwork. She needed to get it out of the way. She could be called back soon!

**oooooooo**

If her paper pusher had expected her earlier, he didn't say anything. In fact, he barely looked at her. He just processed form after form without pause.

There were dark circles under his eyes. He was disheveled and looked like someone fighting just to survive. Yet he plowed on paper after paper.

She couldn't stop staring at this poor guy, but he failed to even notice.

This guy had killed himself. Looking at him now she could easily believe it. What method had he used? There was no way to tell. Like her, he appeared a normal human.

Every once and a while he'd circle a blank on a form with a highlighter…

He sighed, "Vespasian is notorious for his shoddy paperwork."

"Mistakes?" She frowned uncertainly.

"And blanks he's missed altogether. But I'm used to it."

"Sooo…" She prompted, but not impolitely.

"I'm going to indicate the corrections… Take them back to him, will you?"

He didn't say please. The way he spoke – Rose was struck with déjà vu again. There was something so familiar about these exchanges.

The officer paused and actually looked at her. "Mind him. He's careless."

Rose blinked. That was an unexpected personal touch.

And then he handed her additional blank forms. "Each session will require similar paperwork. Always return it to me for processing."

"How will I know when my next session starts?"

He froze and then shot her a look that indicated she should already know the answer. He leaned forward and took her arm, checking for…yes. A bracelet.

He sighed audibly with impatience – "This bracelet glows each time you're to return. Vespasian should have told you as much."

He had closed the gap between them. He was touching her. She could smell his after shave…

"I know you." She slowly withdrew her arm.

He looked at her seriously a moment and frowned. "I don't recognize you."

And then he returned to the papers before him indifferently.

Rose stared at him very hard. She was certain she knew him. It hadn't been the events causing the déjà vu. It was the man himself.

"Who are you?" She insisted stubbornly.

"My dear, I've been here a very long time. If I knew you, I don't recall."

"No. It's important." She grabbed his arm. She sensed it mattered somehow.

Their eyes met a moment.

He then motioned to her now glowing bracelet. "You're late."

Startled, Rose sprang to her feet, snatching up all the paperwork. She knew she'd be back later to resume this conversation. Meeting with Pazy was her ultimate priority.

As she exited, she rushed past a coffee girl who was approaching the desk.

Rose distinctly heard the girl say: "More coffee, Cal?"

Rose froze, her back straightening visibly. She looked back slowly…

And it was definitely Cal.

How had she not recognized him? It seemed so ridiculously obvious now.

Rose stood staring at him. He answered his phone, running a hand absently through his messy hair. He was unkempt in every way. He looked absolutely exhausted.

She'd never seen him like this before. It was shocking!

For an instant she pitied him. And then all the horrible memories started flooding back and she dreaded the idea of interacting with him again. She'd run away for a reason. She'd never wanted to see him again! She was suddenly very nervous about returning with her forms. What an unfortunate coincidence. Fortunately, he didn't seem to recognize her.

Suddenly, her wrist hurt. She looked down and realized her bracelet was truly glowing now. She had to go.

Taking one last awkward glance at Cal, she ran towards Pazy's office…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from James Cameron's _Titanic_ or Tim Burton's _Beetlejuice._

A/N: I'm sure many of you predicted her running into Cal, especially with all the talk of suicide. Anywho, here is the next installment. Hopefully this story isn't a disaster. It was a bizarre idea that's been nagging at me for over a decade, so I thought I'd take a chance on it.

**oooooooo**

Pazy was looking over the paperwork he'd messed up the first time around.

"UGH. A diligent paper pusher, just my luck. Most of them are barely conscious." He sighed tiredly. And then he started trying to make the corrections expected of him.

After a moment, the Roman smirked, "I do rather like his handwriting."

And then he glanced up at Rose to see if she was smiling.

NO. She looked pale and sickly. Like she was going to cry or vomit.

"UM…" Pazy sat up straight. "Someone exorcising you or something? You look like DEATH and that's saying something around here…"

Rose swallowed and didn't say anything. She looked rattled.

"OK. Were you peeking in Closets of Lost Souls or what?" He sighed.

Rose realized confiding in Pazy about the problem might get her switched to another administrative officer. As anxious as she felt right now, if she just talked about it she might be able to fix things.

"It's the paper pusher…" She managed, her eyes getting wet.

Pazy was completely taken aback. "Did you yell at you coz I suck at paperwork?"

"No, no…" Rose's voice was watery now.

"Oh man. Did he pull something? You are kinda hot."

And then he looked over the papers quickly. "OH. This guy. I know exactly who this guy is. Good looking smart ass. I can see him running a hand down your leg. Sexy thought, actually. HM."

"NO. He was professional. It-"

"Don't tell me you've fallen in love with him… He's anal about forms."

"NO." Rose was exasperated now. "I know him from my life!"

Pazy was surprised. "What are the ODDS? That never happens!"

"It's worse than you could ever imagine!" She sat forward, no longer holding back. "Remember the steel tycoon fiancé I ran away from?"

"They were friends?" Pazy couldn't believe it. "Small world."

"IT'S HIM."

Pazy's jaw dropped. "Get the HELL outta here!"

"It's true!" Rose leaned in, fully animated now. She sounded truly horrified. "It's Cal. The ex-fiancé we've been talking about!"

"The possessive, cutthroat bastard? Woah, woah, woah… This is just too crazy, Rose…" Pazy started flipping through her file. "Are you sure you're not all upset and confused from our last session? We did talk about him…"

But as Pazy flipped quickly through her file and then compared Cal's paperwork a look of acceptance slowly crossed his features. The name was exactly identical – Caledon Hockley.

He looked up, "So the dude who fired the pistol? And tried to frame the artist? And snatched up that little girl to save himself?"

Rose looked very pale and upset. Her eyes were wet.

"The _'not the better half'_ bastard? Oh man. Messed up." Pazy ran a hand through his blonde hair. "SO extremely messed up."

Rose said nothing. She just watched Pazy miserably.

"What the hell?" Pazy was still astounded. "What the HELL?"

"EXACTLY." Rose leaned forward. "It's insufferable!"

"Oh ya..." Pazy said slowly, reading again. "He totally committed suicide. Uncanny. Dude does NOT strike me as the suicide sort. He's got that cutthroat survivor air about him… HM. Then again, I'm here, right? Wow."

"How did I not recognize him?" Rose blurted out. "It's impossible!"

"People look different in death." Pazy still sounded confused. "I dunno what to tell ya, honey. I'm at a loss here. I've never even _heard_ of anything like this before, let alone dealt with it. I'm at a loss…"

"Why is he working with me?" Rose demanded. "I have to be switched!"

Pazy stared at the file for a full minute and then looked up at her. "I'm sorry, honey. Everything happens for a reason here. There are no switches."

"What?"

"I'm serious. You've got to work with the pistol firing ex-fiancé. It's what's supposed to happen, I guess. This must be part of your process. They don't make mistakes."

"THEY?"

"The powers that be… I dunno. I don't have any answers."

Rose looked sick. "I can't face him again. I just can't."

"Is he being really horrible?"

"No. He doesn't recognize me. He's all business."

"Then what's the problem? Just go back to pretending you don't know him. He's just another paper pusher, Rose. They rarely speak anyway! The souls are sucked outta those guys."

Rose didn't say anything. She was replaying her interactions with Cal over again in her head. What had they said to each other? What had she felt? Everything had been fine until she'd realized who he was…

Pazy snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Hey. Gorgeous. I know you're upset, but stay with me…"

"I drew attention to the fact that we know each other. He's going to figure it out." She sounded distant, worried. She was thinking.

"RELAX. Even if he figures it out, he's admin. His soul is _crushed_. He's not gonna have any energy to start trouble. Trust me. I've been dealing with paper pushers for 2000 years. They are just barely treading water. Hanging on by a thread. He's _not_ a threat, honey."

Rose didn't look convinced. No matter what she would be so uncomfortable! It was Cal. There were sharp memories connected to him that stabbed her like a blade!

"…sharp memories that stab you like a blade…" Pazy frowned. "That's pretty melodramatic."

Rose frowned. Not even noticing he'd read her mind. "It's painful to think about our relationship now. You just don't understand. I was never supposed to see him again!"

"Well, the path to the afterlife can be very challenging…"

"I don't care how many times you tell me he's soulless, chained to a desk. I'm not comfortable with his gaze falling on me. I'm not comfortable with him speaking to me… and processing my papers… What if he sabotages something? This is a conflict of interest, Pazy!"

"Gaze? Please. They rarely make eye contact."

"PAZY."

"OK, OK… Relax. He won't get away with any sabotage. I've got your back! Besides, they process millions of people day in and out. He's absolutely exhausted, barely conscious and not given a second to pause. You were probably just supposed to get a good look at what he's become – for your healing process. I suspect nothing will come of this."

Rose still looked absolutely miserable.

"Did I mention I strongly suspect nothing will come up this?" Pazy smiled.

Rose frowned, "Foreshadowing…"

"No way. I'm never wrong." Pazy smirked confidently.

They lapsed into silence again. Rose still looked awful.

"Someone's punishing me." Her voice broke, eyes tearing up.

"Oh come on. I've worked with him over the years. He really doesn't seem so bad." Pazy tried to sound optimistic. "And a lot of time has passed, right? He may be a very different person now. Death has a way of changing people for the better. It puts things into perspective."

"Of course. Decades of horrible enslavement will have improved his disposition." Rose was bitterly sarcastic.

Pazy laughed out loud and then quickly silenced himself, clearing his throat loudly. "UM… seriously…" He tried to look serious. "There's the possibility that decades working amongst the 'lowly minions' has given him a reality check. He really might have come to understand workers and changed for the better."

"Cal couldn't change. He was utterly inflexible. Why do you think he shot himself when the status quo was shattered?"

"I think that's an oversimplification from someone who has no idea what the man's personal circumstances were. You read a sentence in a newspaper."

Rose couldn't argue with that.

So he continued: "How do you know he was flawed to his core? He made some horrible mistakes… but was only human. I'm sure there's more depth to him then you're letting on here…"

After a silence, Pazy added – "The whole cheating fiancée while the Titantic's sinking thing would have been hard on the guy, I'm sure…"

"EXCUSE ME?" Rose's eyes widened incredulously.

"Oh come on, it was a very long time ago and he's an eternal desk slave now. It's time to move past this stuff."

Rose gasped. "How can you—"

Pazy shrugged, "I'm sorry! I've dealt with trillions of cheating fiancées. And pistol firing jealous idiots. And scheming mothers. I realize I'm ridiculously blunt about these things. I just can't help myself. It's been 2000 years and I've seen MUCH worse."

Rose was so offended. Being referred to as a _cheating fiancée_ upset her.

Pazy sounded tired suddenly, "You'll never cross over if you don't get over stuff like this. Forgive the selfish mother, forgive the jealous bastard… admit that you weren't a saint yourself… Let's just move on! Hanging onto this crap isn't worth your SOUL…"

"For all your talk of _sensitivity_…" Rose glared at him.

Pazy frowned. "Don't get pissed off at me for doing my job. I like you and I'm not trying to hurt your feelings."

Rose said nothing. Her face was frozen with anger.

"Ok, ok, ok. I get it." Pazy sighed. "My brash talk is cutting you to the marrow. I'm SORRY. But tough love is needed sometimes in these cases. I'm not walking on eggshells around these issues – you've done that for decades clearly. You need to address what happened point blank, no sugar coating, or you'll never cross over."

There was an awkward silence.

Pazy sighed, "Look. There's an obvious Cal skeleton to work through here. Seeing him is probably just part of that process. Some crazy drama went down and you ran away from that engagement… You need to air that dirty laundry. Close the book on it all permanently."

Rose was still coldly silent.

"I know you're uncomfortable with his presence. And I know you're angry I'm not being more accommodating. I told you this 'skeleton in the closet' crap wasn't going to be pleasant. In fact, it's decidedly unpleasant."

"So I'm supposed to see what's become of him? That's part of my healing process?" Rose spoke impatiently now.

She didn't like how Pazy was suddenly treating her. He was usually so nice and understanding. Yet right now he was being too blunt with her and _far_ too generous to Cal.

He seemed to read her mind again. "The truth hurts. It's my job to say what needs to be said, whether you like it or not. You're facing these issues."

"You're being unnecessarily rude. And you're showing Cal and mother a level of charity they do NOT deserve…"

"Yikes! Do you hear the anger behind those words? You're going to take longer to cross over than I originally thought." Pazy suddenly looked very tired. For the first time she noticed the dark rings under his blue eyes.

Rose noticed the sand in the hour glass slipping away. This was turning out to be an incredibly unproductive session. How would she ever reach the afterlife at this rate?

"I know his actual presence is unorthodox…" Pazy admitted. "I dunno…"

"Am I supposed to have this big touching moment where I forgive him? Seriously?" Rose muttered. "It's too much to bear."

"Maybe you're just supposed to know his fate, incorporate that into your letting go and moving on… I really don't know."

"I felt no remorse when he committed suicide. And after the horrors he pulled he's lucky he isn't burning in Hell right now."

"You're still clinging to all this negativity…" Pazy frowned. "No wonder you can't rest in peace. It was 1912. It was a lifetime ago."

Rose sighed and was silent a moment. Then she spoke calmly – "I wouldn't be carrying on like this if he wasn't right here interacting with me. This is _hindering_ my progress, not helping it. I have every right to be upset."

"I suspect this isn't as straightforward as you're making it sound. And there's a good chance the monster you've built up in your imagination isn't as scary as you think. He's just a man. A flawed and difficult man, yes… but a man."

Rose looked away. And then she muttered quietly, "Perhaps if he hadn't chased us back down into the bowels of a sinking ship firing a pistol like a maniac, Jack Dawson would have survived."

Pazy sounded tired, "I get that he wronged you. Some lines were absolutely crossed and there's no going back from that. I hear ya. BUT we live in shades of gray… and eventually baggage needs to be ditched."

Rose cringed, "The idea of him knowing me again is like claws in my stomach. Interacting with him actually frightens me. He's not a good person, Pazy. These flaws were totally unbearable. I wanted to KILL myself rather than stay trapped under his thumb. The idea of him looking at me with recognition is alarming!"

When Pazy said nothing, she continued: "I don't want him knowing a thing about me… judging my path… _hating_ me… You have no idea."

"Facing your demons. That's what this process is all about. Conquering your fears and facing your past are the only way outta here."

Rose looked back at hour glass… the seconds ticked away in sand…

**oooooooo**

Rose and Pazy sat on a park bench silently watching a memory of a very young Rose taking a stroll with her mother.

She didn't remember this day. Apparently she was seven. The memory seemed incredibly uneventful. Rose was growing distracted, sensing their appointment must be nearing an end. Which, of course, meant facing Cal again…

"Let's get a bit closer." Pazy noticed her losing focus.

"But-"

"Just be careful." That wasn't much reassurance.

"_Mind him. He's careless." _Cal's offhanded warning now came back to her.

This memory process was actually quite stressful. Carelessness could result in being observed, something that was greatly frowned upon as it could influence events. This was likely where the _ghost_ concept came from – seeing souls with unfinished business poking around. It was a chilling thought. What the living failed to realize was that spirits were often from the future, not the past.

Pazy silently motioned for Rose to get closer.

"Look how tightly she's squeezing my hand." Rose whispered, frowning. "Heaven forbid I run off or do something embarrassing."

"Well, it benefited you not to embarrass yourself as well." Pazy pointed out quietly. "She didn't create the system you lived in. She was just trying to operate within it and she expected you to do the same. It's easier to go with the flow than to swim against the current."

"She didn't need to be such a cold, unkind witch to those she felt were inferior." Rose muttered.

"Ya. I'm not a fan of her gaze. I hate the way she looks at people she doesn't like." Pazy confided, as though he wasn't supposed to comment.

"It's like those beneath her are _insects_!" Rose agreed, raising her voice.

"SHHH…" Pazy put his fingers over her lips, trying not to smirk.

Rose looked apologetic.

After a moment Pazy sighed, "But hey – after all we've seen it's safe to say she loved you. As witch-like as she could be… she loved you in her own way…"

Rose still looked unimpressed.

Pazy frowned, "I'm sure in her mind families are supposed to stick together and work as a team to move forward successfully. It was mutually beneficial for you to make all the right impressions in society. It was mutually beneficial for you to marry the 'proper' man and lead the 'proper' life. I realize you have trouble understanding her perspective, but it wasn't 100 percent selfish. There was selfishness in the mix, for sure, but there was some concern for you in there as well."

"Mutually beneficial? I was absolutely miserable and she didn't care."

"Who is denying that? She was absolutely trying to control you and mold you. There was selfishness in some of these actions, for sure. But there was also concern for your well being sometimes too, you know. She's not the first stubborn, controlling parent to think they know what's best."

Rose said nothing. Pazy had made all these points before.

"Think of how her parents would have raised her. I liken it to brainwashing. Anyway – I suspect her parents instilled a sense of duty in her, duty to the family. Parents raise the child and then the child turns around and ensures its parents are provided for in their old age. So in her mind, she probably felt it was your duty to marry well to protect the two of you from poverty."

And then he added sympathetically, "I'm sure the idea of poverty would have been very frightening to an older woman who'd never known any kind of hardship ever before."

"I'm sure it had more to do with pride and humiliation than anything…" Rose sighed. "She didn't NEED to live in such luxury. Or care what others thought so much. I could have married a man of lower stature whom I actually LIKED and we would have survived, damn it."

Pazy just listened here, not needing a comeback just yet...

Rose snorted quietly, "Understanding what the average person goes through on a daily basis might have been good for her! She needed a reality check. To this day the sound of her cold voice complaining about the lower class makes my flesh crawl. It's hard to sympathize."

Pazy smirked, "Oh, I hear ya. Class division played a huge part in Roman life. It was extremely complex, though – there were six types of property owning classes alone. Ugh, but I digress."

"It's like these people have a disdain for humanity or something." Rose made a face. "It was unbearable to be a part of. I desperately needed to get away."

Pazy frowned, "The patricians drove me up the wall, honey. Their world view was so impossibly different from my own. They could never relate to what I was going through. Or what a slave went through… But everyone's got their own perspective. They perceive things in a way others don't always understand or agree with. Everyone is the way they are for a reason."

"You make it sound like an excuse." Rose muttered.

"No. I'm not trying to excuse anything… I'm trying to _explain_…"

Rose studied him a moment, "Did you want to join the army?"

Pazy smiled, "Well, I was naturally athletic… We trained with armour and equipment four times the weight and I could—"

"That's not what I asked."

Pazy gave a very striking frown – "I wouldn't have signed my life away to the army if I'd been born into a more privileged class. No."

After an awkward pause, Pazy cleared his throat. "There you go again with the personal questions, changing the subject. The bottom line is – your mother was indoctrinated into a very specific worldview. She had a perspective. Everyone's the way they are for a reason."

Rose sighed, "That's NOT an excuse. Axe murders have a perspective!"

Pazy fought the urge to laugh aloud. "As an objective third party I'm just trying to talk through this with you so that you understand and accept and let go. You'll never _agree_… you just need to come to terms with it…"

"You can't pretend to know my mother."

"Fair enough. All the same – people are complex. It's not black and white."

Suddenly, the living Ruth shuddered visibly and looked around. An unexplained quiver had just run through her.

Pazy swatted reflexively at Rose to back up. "Too close!"

**oooooooo**

They were soon in her father's study. Pazy was leaning against the old desk, looking through her papers. Confusion was etched in his pleasant features.

"You know… I'm thinking something went wrong back there…" He muttered quietly as he was reading. "I guess we shouldn't have talked over that last scene. The conversation was important."

Rose refrained from rolling her eyes. _ERR… Pazy…_

"I guess we'll have to watch it again next time. Coz we're pretty much out of time now."

As Pazy continued to read, the mirror beside Rose caught her eye. She glanced at it and realized she could see her reflection for the first time since she died. There were no reflective surfaces at all in purgatory.

Yet her reflection didn't look right. Something was wrong with it!

Slowly approaching the mirror Rose realized she was having trouble processing what she was seeing. She could vaguely see her reflection coming forward, but there something strange about the experience.

And then it dawned upon her – how did she even HAVE a reflection?

She motioned to the mirror in dazed confusion. "Pazy, look…" She sounded sleepy… far away…

"DAMN IT." Pazy pulled her away sharply. "Completely forgot about that. Major memory rule – Stay away from any mirrors. You have a reflection and the living will see it."

Rose blinked, slow to snap out of her daze.

Pazy squeezed her arm. "Did you catch that? Do not under any circumstances cast a reflection. The living can see it. It is even worse than touching someone. It gives you away instantly without fail."

"But… I didn't look right." Rose was confused. "What was happening?"

"You were catching a glimpse of your soul. Our appearances right now are just an illusion to aide comprehension. Your reflection, on the other hand, communicates your true self. Naturally it's gonna look strange to you. Your mind can't even properly process what it really looks like. So don't try to. You shouldn't have seen that."

"So that's why there are no reflective surfaces in purgatory?"

"Exactly. You can only find them amongst the living. So stay away."

Annoyed – "Any other fundamentals you've forgotten to tell me?"

"Oh probably. I've clearly brought my A-Game." Pazy snorted sarcastically.

_A-Game?_ Rose didn't understand some of the casual expressions Pazy used. He interacted with trillions of people and had picked up some quirky sayings. Most of the time she got the gist and didn't bother to ask.

They appeared in Pazy's office now and he sat down to fill out her papers.

She scrutinized him now as he quickly went through the pages. She saw exactly what Cal meant now. Pazy obviously didn't have a head for filling out forms!

How frustrating. Vespasian, despite his likeability, was highly unorganized and hardly professional. He'd even forgotten to tell her about the bracelet that signaled her appointments! He kept forgetting important things and he was poor at paperwork. He kept making mistakes. He'd screwed up that last Ruth scene, he'd let her look in a mirror… His sessions weren't always very productive. It was discouraging!

What else was going to go wrong? Would she ever cross over?

But she didn't have the heart to say anything. She liked him a lot. He was extremely pleasant. In fact, he was the only decent company here at all! She knew he was trying his best and that he was enslaved.

And what good would commenting really do? It had been made clear that there were no switches. Pazy was her caseworker no matter what. She was just going to have to tolerate his ways.

Besides, she'd heard in the halls that most caseworkers were much harsher than Pazy ever was. They hurried through cases. Some were downright ruthless in their attempts to speed up the process. That was surely much more painful than Pazy's annoying mistakes. It would take her longer to get out of here… but at least he wasn't intimidating or cruel… He wasn't cold and bitter like all the other workers.

Pazy looked over the papers one more time. "I'll make sure I fill out every freaking SYLLABLE correctly, honey." He promised quietly. "Let's not give your ex an excuse to talk to you."

Her ex. She didn't say anything. She felt nervousness coming on.

He handed her the papers: "Everyone's got flaws. Even your caseworker. That must be the message of this place. We're all extremely flawed, so let's forgive each other, let go and be at peace."

**oooooooo**

Rose put off going to the administrative area again. She had been nervous and thought a walk might mentally prepare her for the awkwardness that was coming.

The hallways were rarely the same around here. She was always finding new passages. The doors were almost always closed.

Finally she happened upon a door that was open a crack.

It read – FORBIDDEN.

That was intimidating. If it hadn't already been open a crack she'd have likely moved on. However, the door was already open… and she could see into the room…

She didn't see anything unusual at first. It didn't seem dangerous.

So she nudged the door a little further with her foot.

The room was extremely long and went on as far as the eye could see. Its dimensions were clearly not plausible and yet here it was. There was endless shelving filled with small items.

One side of the room was entirely random with items of every type and description. A teddy bear. A set of keys. A credit card. A watch. Just extremely random items. Each item was relatively small, things that could be held in one's hand.

The other side of the room was all mirrors. Millions of them. They were all relatively small. Many could be tucked away in a purse or pocket.

What was this room? Where had these items come from? What was their significance?

As she went to step forward –

SLAM!

A zombie-like janitor pulled the door shut violently. "Forbidden!" He barked.

"I'm sorry. It was open and I…"

"Forbidden!" He repeated, moving away with his mop and bucket.

"Why are those items in there?" She frowned. "Where did they come from?"

"Confiscated." He muttered, moving away steadily.

"From who? I don't understand." She stepped forward.

He clearly had no intention of answering. She watched him roll away slowly.

**oooooooo**

Rose sat in a waiting room… She couldn't delay much longer…

She soon recognized the middle aged man from Pazy's caseload. He had spoken freely with her earlier so she decided to try questioning him.

"Do you find Pazy makes a lot of mistakes?" She asked quietly.

The man snorted and shot her a look that said – YES.

"It confuses me. He's a lovely person… but… being a caseworker seems a privileged job and he's fairly careless."

A woman unexpectedly interjected – "Pazy's a soft touch. He's got the people skills necessary for certain cases."

"Certain cases?" The man snorted again. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Cases that need a soft touch." Rose said quietly, understanding.

**oooooooo**

Rose was waiting in line, watching people get their papers processed. It struck her how much Cal would _resent_ having to serve people, working away like some lower class office drone. Did he think he was in Hell? Did he understand why this had happened to him?

Then again, he'd been here a long time now and likely understood how things worked. Perhaps he'd resigned himself to his fate?

She wasn't about to ask him! No, she'd just have to silence her curiosity.

He rarely spoke or made eye contact with anyone. This was a relief. She watched him apprehensively… waiting for her turn…

A teenaged girl was sitting before him, twirling her hair around her finger and chomping loudly on a wad of gum. She was glancing all around the room, observing other people with a critic's eye.

Cal finished with her papers. As he handed them over he said bluntly, "Here you are. Now I'll take whatever you're concealing, please."

The girl froze. "Pardon?"

"The contraband." Cal repeated tiredly, extending a hand.

"I don't know what you mean." Her voice suddenly sounded strained.

Sighing jadedly, hand still extended, Cal said: "I'm not an idiot. Don't make me call security…"

There was a full moment of silence between them. Their eyes were locked. She seemed to be trying to read him and make up her mind.

"I won't report you." He said quietly. "A security guard won't be so kind."

She produced a small mirror from under her denim jacket.

Cal set it on his desk and promptly dialed his phone. The girl took her papers and hurried away awkwardly.

Rose sat down before him, drawing on her skill as a professional actress to feign a calm disinterest. Caledon distractedly signaled her that he would be a moment. And she looked away, praying not to be recognized.

"…Yes, I've confiscated a mirror… Yes… 124… No… No…"

And then he was irritated. "NO. There was no chance to identify her."

So he'd been truthful in his promise not to report the girl.

"Yes, yes. I'll tuck it away until they arrive." He still sounded vexed.

She could hear mumbling on the phone. It sounded like he was getting a lecture – probably for not identifying the culprit. Cal's eyes indicated he was not listening at all. He clearly still had no tolerance for being talked down to. None whatsoever.

His dark eyes wandered to the mirror and rested there a moment, obviously catching his reflection. And then he flinched in discomfort and instantly slammed the mirror away in his bottom drawer.

What had he seen?

"Yes, yes, FINE." He said irritably and hung up whilst the speaker was in mid-sentence. He was already agitated and whatever he saw in the mirror had made it all the worse.

Rose wondered about what he'd seen – something dark and horrible, probably – but she hadn't been foolish enough to lean forward and try to see for herself.

"My apologies." He took Rose's papers, not even looking at her.

He went through her forms quickly and thankfully Pazy hadn't made any more mistakes. There was nothing for him to comment on.

No. She'd spoken too soon…

He looked skeptical – "An extremely uneventful session. I've hardly anything to record."

She said absolutely nothing. Her pulse raced.

"Vespasian. Typical. Absentminded and overly chatty. You'll take three times longer to cross over, mark my words." Cal was tired, but he still with that brisk confidence of his, as though he hadn't changed since 1912.

He handed her new forms for next session and barely looked at her. "Next."

**oooooooo**

Rose entered Pazy's office and was immediately offered a pop, which she again declined. She was never hungry or thirsty in death. Such options were now just for the experience itself it seemed.

Pazy sniffed the canned drink and made a face. "Gut rot. Not appealing."

Rose remembered Cal's words, "Shall we get down to business?"

"How are you feeling? Steel tycoon give you any trouble?"

"He sincerely doesn't recognize me."

"Told you. Those paper pushers are soulless. He's barely there anymore, I bet."

"He could be playing me." Rose frowned. "He was an amazing liar."

"Frighteningly cunning." Pazy agreed. "But no worries. I've notified my supervisor of the weirdness and an eye is being kept on your file. If he's up to something he's not going to get away with it."

"He might surprise you." Rose swallowed. "He has a knack for creating opportunities."

"PSSH…" Pazy was dismissive. "If he recognized you he'd probably be just as uncomfortable as you are. He'd probably play dumb to avoid really awkward exchanges with you."

"Whatever the case, things are functional right now." Rose muttered.

"Good. Just keep a low profile with him and it'll stay that way."

"He confiscated a mirror from a girl." Rose had been curious over the episode and hoped Pazy could shed some light on it for her. Though she would likely just get scolded for asking questions again.

"Did he pocket it? Paper pushers are notorious for that kinda crap." Pazy muttered bitterly. "They have all kinds of awesome stuff stashed in their desk drawers. They need to increase the number of inspections."

"No. He called someone and reported it."

"HM." Pazy wrinkled his nose. "Diligent _and_ honest. Unexpected from a pistol firing, artist framing, child snatching, wife smacking jackass."

Rose interrupted, "He didn't even report her. He pretended—"

Pazy covered his ears. "AH. Don't tell me that. La-la-la!"

"What?" Rose was taken aback.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that part." Pazy uncovered his ears. "All smugglers are to be reported. Smuggling is a serious offense and you are not to look the other way under any circumstances. As tempting as it may be."

One of her lovely eyebrows arched skeptically, "You were all ears when you thought he'd pocketed the mirror. You have rather selective hearing."

"Let's just say I sympathize with a guy willing to look the other way. It's quite the risk on his part. The punishment is unpleasant. Not that I know anything about THAT. I mean, coz I would NEVER look the other way. I'm a heartless by-the-book type, you know…" He said sarcastically.

"Where does the contraband come from? And why is it such a big deal?"

"Oh, Rosey…" Pazy frowned. "You and your questions. You know better!"

"When I was walking down the hall I saw this room – the door was open, I did nothing wrong..."

"Here we go." Pazy covered his eyes.

"... Inside were all sorts of confiscated items. Mostly mirrors."

"Remember when I said not to spend time trying to figure this place out? That it was absolutely unnecessary to your progress and would only lead to trouble? Remember that?"

Rose smiled sheepishly. She knew Pazy now.

"Oy-yoy-yoy… Now listen… I'm going to explain this. But only to keep you from seeking out any more trouble. You seem to be a real wildfire, honey, and I suspect a few answers will simmer you down a notch. But you've got to promise me you're not going to peek into any more rooms that are clearly labeled FORBIDDEN. Ok?"

Rose nodded.

"OK. The items come from the memories. Sometimes when a caseworker's not looking… well, souls steal stuff from the scene. Small things they can easily pocket. Sentimental things… or things they crave… Mirrors are the most coveted of all items. Small, handheld mirrors. The reasoning there should be fairly obvious."

Rose wasn't sure. She knew mirrors showed one's soul in true form.

Pazy saw her doubt so he explained, "Being able to see souls is a powerful ability. And highly addictive."

"So that girl stole a small mirror from one of her memories and was trying to conceal it, but Cal caught her."

"She might have a record. If so her file would have been flagged. Most of those half dead drones wouldn't care, but a diligent guy like that would have noticed the warning and been watching her."

"I don't know if her file was flagged or not." Rose admitted. "Maybe she didn't hide the mirror well. Or seemed suspicious."

"Meh. Who cares? I need to stop giving you insider info. Coz if your file is ever flagged now—"

"You have SO much faith in me." She smirked sarcastically.

"Well, seriously – sneaking into forbidden rooms. I've got a feeling you're going to be a real handful!"

**oooooooo**

The line was longer than usual today. This time around she actually paid attention to all the paperwork being processed, whereas before she'd simply zoned out most of the time. She watched souls interact with Cal, bracing herself for her turn again.

He rarely had to say 'Next'… He rarely spoke at all… He was just working. It was strange to see him looking so disheveled and rundown. Yet somehow he looked much better than he ever had as a stuffy aristocrat.

An extremely beautiful woman was waiting impatiently for him to finish her papers. She had her arms crossed and her loveliness was marred by a particularly sour expression on her face.

Finally, she couldn't hold her tongue any longer.

"Can't you go any faster? You were MUCH faster for the last guy."

"Your file is a mess. I need a moment." Cal was indifferent.

"You look like you're on your last legs." She shot back unkindly.

Cal didn't even bother to look up. "Appearance is irrelevant now. It holds absolutely no power."

She didn't like his tone. "Irrelevant now?"

"An illusion beyond control that is of no consequence. You think you're ravishing, but your body is long gone. Turns out the soul is all that actually matters." He said coldly, still not looking at her.

"I was Miss Rhode Island!" She exclaimed indignantly.

"You could do with a good glance in a mirror." He replied indifferently.

"Are you implying…?"

"Next." He interrupted bluntly, handing over her papers.

A few more people were processed; very few words were spoken all the while. Rose continued to watch.

And then another young woman sat down.

There was silence at first while Cal scribbled through papers…

And then Rose flinched in discomfort as she saw something truly unexpected! The girl placed a hand on Cal's knee!

Cal removed it nonchalantly. "I've told you several times now – I'm not pulling any files for you. I haven't the time or the inclination."

"Oh come on…" The girl's hand slipped towards his zipper. "I'm sure it's been an eternity…"

"Your advances at NOT appreciated." Cal was losing his temper. He forcefully removed her hand and gave her a very dark glare.

The girl bit her lip and her eyes filled with tears. "Oh please! I just want to know if my brother survived. I was driving! This accident was all my fault! I'll bring you a cigar. I know you like them. I'll bring you anything you want. Name any favor! Just please help me!"

Cal's anger slowly diffused, "Your circumstances are lamentable, but I've made myself perfectly clear. It's entirely against the rules and an abuse of my position – for which there are serious consequences."

And she burst into loud sobs, covering her face.

It was subtle, but Cal was uncomfortable for a moment. Rose was surprised she could still read him so well. He was making that face. The one he made when a woman was crying and he didn't know how to properly comfort her. She knew that face well.

"Get a hold of yourself." He said quietly. He was trying to sound kind, but he was failing miserably. Rose knew he would find such a public outburst to be embarrassing and pathetic.

The girl started bawling loudly now.

Cal was blinking rapidly now… trying to compose himself… Oh wow, it had been decades but his body language hadn't changed a bit.

He whispered in frustration, "For Heavens sake, I haven't even looked up my own family!"

Rose frowned uncomfortably. Cal was definitely still Cal. He had no idea how to treat women! He was only going to make things worse.

Strangely though, no one in the office was paying the scene any attention. Such things were common place. There were so many people talking and crying and doing their own work, the miserable little drama went unnoted.

Cal decided to finish with her papers, allowing her time to cry herself out. This turned out to be the best course of action as she gradually wound herself down again.

He handed new forms over in an emotionless, businesslike manner.

The girl sniffled, looking down. Not leaving right away.

Cal glanced at her with uncertainty. He didn't call the next person.

As she rose to leave, he unexpectedly caught her by the wrist. "Your accident is irrelevant now. There's no blame or guilt here. Things that seemed to really matter… they don't matter anymore…"

The girl nodded tearfully and pulled away. Cal watched for a second and then took the next fellow's papers absently.

Rose blinked. No guilt? No blame? Nothing matters anymore? Did Cal actually believe that? That would suggest he didn't feel the horrendous wrongs he committed in his life were of any consequence!

"It's clear what her unfinished business was, eh?" The man behind Rose nudged her. Rose turned to him and feigned a polite smile. For all the staff blathered on about manners – there were tons of gossipy, bored spirits kicking around these rooms.

Finally, the elderly woman in front of Rose was up.

"Is this the right place?" She asked Cal slowly, clearly confused.

Cal took her papers and checked. "Yes, yes. Take a seat."

"You looked exhausted, young man." She frowned. "You're clearly overworked." And then she politely asked: "Have you been here long?"

Cal glanced up at her. He didn't have the heart to be dismissive or unkind.

"A very long time, madam." He answered truthfully.

"They should promote you. You're clearly burning the candle at both ends. But don't you worry. I'm going to put in a VERY good word for you with the manager."

"Thank you." Cal smiled tiredly at this and didn't bother to correct her.

This surprised Rose. She thought he would have felt patronized by such comments. But then she remembered Cal had repeatedly shown a soft spot for grandmotherly types. Moreover, it must have been nice to be appreciated. Most people were silent or gave him trouble. Such flattering attention must have been rare.

"Here you are, madam." He handed over her papers. "Eighth door on the left. Good day."

"Good day to you." She said graciously. And as she was leaving, she turned back and squeezed his hand, adding quietly – "And you get a good night's sleep tonight. You really need it."

Cal nodded and watched her go.

The paper pusher at the next desk, on the phone, pulled the receiver away from his mouth and whispered over – "They have NO idea. My God, I'd give anything for one minute of sleep. One freaking minute."

Cal blatantly ignored his coworker. He took Rose's papers without comment. She had silently sat down and was hoping to get through quickly and quietly without a word.

The other man continued loudly, "Rest in peace, my ass. I jumped off that bridge to go to a better place. Who knew, eh?"

Rose felt a pang of annoyance suddenly.

The coffee girl poured the man a fresh cup. "If I knew then what I know now…" She muttered, flashing the boys her visibly sliced wrists.

Cal ignored both of them entirely. In elite circles he'd always needed to _pretend _he was friendly, but here he didn't bother. It didn't matter.

The other man sipped his hot coffee and smirked. "With only the illusion of coffee to keep us going, eh? I'd kill for a nap. And a cigarette."

Rose, one to never hold back her opinion, suddenly piped up. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself and she instantly regretted interjecting. Damn it.

"It could be worse. You could be in Hell." She said simply.

She hadn't intended to be rude. She'd just meant to point out that it could be much worse and they should look on the bright side. The man's comments had been rubbing her the wrong way. His tone was obnoxious.

Unfortunately, the grumbling paper pusher looked absolutely shocked. He nearly chocked on his coffee.

"Excuse me?" He managed to cough out, smacking his chest. Coffee dripped from his mouth down on his paperwork.

"Charming." Cal disdainfully passed over a small box of tissue.

Rose felt her face warming. She didn't know what to say now. This was one of the rare occasions where she wished she didn't always speak her mind so freely.

The other man managed to choke out in angry disbelief: "Where do you come off judging my experience, lady?"

Rose caught a subtle expression on Cal's part that indicated this fellow complained regularly and was an annoyance.

The other man continued furiously – "How dare you say a damn thing! You get to cross over!"

Cal closed Rose's folder with a loud snap. He turned to his coworker coldly: "There are worse fates than ours, I assure you. When I pulled the trigger I expected to burn."

And then he dismissively handed Rose fresh forms. "Next."

**oooooooo**

Rose woke from a long nap. She had been having the most unusual dream.

She turned to the lady beside her and said, "The dreams here are so intense and meaningful. It never occurred to me spirits would dream."

"Sleeping is encouraged." The woman answered. "Dreaming is extremely significant here and helps with one's process."

"I don't like sleeping where workers can see me." Rose admitted quietly. "They must despise us."

The other lady shrugged with indifference. "They made their choice. It's not our fault."

Rose wandered around for a few hours. She eventually entered a room where people were making thousands of photocopies. Paper was flying everywhere like a whirlwind.

She noticed a nice little space behind a large photocopier where she could sleep out of sight. It was so hectic no one even noticed her cross the room and curl up there in darkness. Leaning against the warm machine, she fell asleep almost immediately.

_She was wandering down another hallway. They all looked they same, yet her dream mind understood this was a significant hallway she'd walked down before. _

_She suddenly predicted seeing the open door. The forbidden room._

_And she happened upon it, as though she'd willed it to be there._

_Glancing around for any witnesses, she quickly stepped inside. She was desperately curious and she wanted to touch things. She hadn't touched real objects since her death._

_She decided to stay away from the mirrors. They had a haunted quality to them in this dream. They were creepy. Instead, she focused on the random items – packs of cigarettes, sun glasses… wow, there were tons of books and that made perfect sense! Spirits would crave reading material during their long waits._

_Yet she couldn't enjoy the room. She sensed this was going to be a bad dream… it was just a matter of when and how…_

_And then she felt arms slip around her waist and warm breath on her neck._

_Terrified and violated, she tore herself away and spun around panicked._

_Sure enough, Cal was in the room glaring at her darkly. _

"_What's the matter, sweetpea?" He asked venomously. "Aren't you glad to see me? Had you hoped on encountering someone else in the afterlife?"_

_Rose's eyes immediately shot to the door. Could she make a run for it?_

_As Cal stepped forward, she saw his reflection growing in the millions of mirrors behind him like a mosaic. Dark and stormy, the smoky black image started small in the bottom corner… it grew slowly and menacingly… larger and larger until it filled all the mirrors. _

_The monster was like a terrifying DRAGON… eyes burning red…_

_Panicking, Rose made a mad dash for the door. She told herself she was going to make it and she did. She flew down the hallway at top speed. Yet she knew Cal wasn't gone. Her dream mind knew he was right behind her and that if she slowed an instant he was grab her violently… _

_There was no doubt in her mind he intended to kill her._

_And then she knew she would be caught. And it happened._

_She felt sharp claws snatch her and hurt her. She screamed in terror. _

"_What are you doing in here?" He roared at her. _

"What are you doing in here?" A bald man was shaking Rose impatiently.

Rose slammed awake from her dream painfully. She burst away from the stranger with great violence, sending him sprawling backwards. He hit the ground with a loud crash.

She ran from the room at top speed. She couldn't stop. She was terrified.

In her panic she soon struck a wall and was knocked off her feet.

That was enough. She immediately began to cry.

The places the claws had struck still hurt. It had been the most intense nightmare of her entire life. It had seemed absolutely real. She ached from the imaginary claws…

Waking up had actually been painful.

Panting, tears flowing down her face, she tried to calm herself down…

**oooooooo**

"Pazy!" Rose slammed into his office. Her face was still red from crying.

"There you are!" Pazy grabbed her. "What the hell were you thinking? My supervisor just took my head off! You told some paper pusher he was lucky not to be burning in Hell?"

Rose was taken aback. She'd never seen Pazy upset before.

"And what were you doing in a printing area?" He continued. "You promised you were going to stop this crap!"

Rose was speechless.

"My bosses are losing it all over me today coz you're outta control! Sneaking into all these off-limits areas, causing drama with the administrative staff, asking too many inappropriate questions…"

"Pazy…" Rose trailed off. She needed to talk to him desperately.

His face broke and he revealed himself to be exhausted and extremely sad.

"Rosey… I adore you… but you're getting me in TROUBLE…" He sounded miserably stressed out.

He closed his eyes and loosened his grip on her. Slowly exhaling, he opened his eyes and really looked into her face for the first time since he'd freaked.

"Have you been crying?" He realized.

Rose's face was still red and her voice sounded wet. "I had the most horrific dream. It was a warning. Cal is plotting."

Pazy studied her face and then pulled away. "Oh boy…" He rubbed his eyes.

After a moment, he muttered: "If he didn't recognize you before he certainly must NOW. You're the talk of administration right now. The guy you insulted reported you, Rose. You've pissed off everyone in his office. And then you were found having the nerve to sleep in a printing room amongst workers. Those paper pushers are gossiping about you like mad."

Rose felt fear drop from her mouth to her tummy. She could still feel claws.

**oooooooo**

**A/N: This is all I have for now… please review if you'd like me to bother continuing someday… Thanks! **


	3. Chapter 3

**UNFINISHED BUSINESS**

**Chapter 3 **

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own anything from James Cameron's **_**Titanic**_** or Tim Burton's **_**Beetlejuice.**_

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! Sorry for any typos or mistakes. **

**oooooooo**

"Remember when I said you'd be a real handful?" Pazy was clutching his blonde hair in visible frustration.

Rose was still shaken from her vivid nightmare. Her soul ached and her face was wet and flushed from crying.

Pazy glanced at her and his hands slowly loosened and let go of his hair. "Look at you." He sighed sadly. "And you thought you had no unfinished business. Does this look like _closure_ to you? You look as bad as you did the night you snapped and tried to kill yourself."

Rose's tearful gaze dropped.

Pazy tossed her file aside wearily, "You've been flagged. FYI."

"F Y…?"

"Nevermind. Just know that you only have so many strikes, ok?"

"What about Cal?" Rose wasn't concerned about her record right now. She was worried about the vindictive, dangerous enemy processing her paperwork in the administrative area. After that prophetic dream she was absolutely terrified at the prospective of having to interact with him again.

"Vindictive and dangerous? Enemy? I dunno, honey. I think your jumping to conclusions. He hasn't actually done anything to you here."

"You keep reading my mind." Rose was instantly defensive. It irritated her that Pazy was not only dismissing her very valid concerns, but intruding into the privacy of her thoughts with this nonchalant—

"You think I'm nonchalant?" Pazy was flattered. "I wish. Try silly and absentminded, maybe…"

"Stop it." Rose was cross now. "It's incredibly rude."

"It's a necessary part of my job." Pazy was unconcerned. "And I'm not nearly as skilled as some caseworkers, so relax. I miss A LOT."

"How very reassuring." Rose muttered sarcastically.

"Seriously, if caseworkers couldn't read your true thoughts and feelings during sessions you would never cross over. It's a necessary ability we're given with our position. Just like memory hoping."

"No other occupations can memory hop?" Rose sniffled, the redness leaving her face slowly.

"Hunters can. And some others, I guess. I think my supervisors can. I dunno. I've told you a dozen times – I don't have all the answers. Like you, I have a very limited view of this place from my vantage point."

"Hunters?"

"Woah! Here you go again! Asking questions about purgatory, getting me to talk about things I'm not supposed to. If you don't STOP this kinda behaviour you're going to end up in the Abyss, I'm telling ya."

"The Abyss?"

"DAMN IT, Rose." Pazy covered his eyes.

"You're the one doing it."

"I know… I know…" Pazy, eyes still covered, replied in tired singsong.

"Now stop dismissing my concerns. What are we going to do about Cal?"

"If he tries anything I'll report him and he'll be dealt with. I seriously doubt he's going to risk what's left of his soul to try to get even with you, though! He might be vengeful, but he's_ not_ stupid."

Rose didn't look remotely satisfied with this answer.

"We can't take a preemptive strike!" Pazy's hands flew up in exasperation. "He's got to actually do something wrong. Right now he's been business as usual with you. And I wouldn't be surprised if it stayed that way."

"But my dream—"

"It wasn't necessarily a warning. You're working through your issues."

Rose sighed heavily and sunk deeper into her chair.

When she didn't speak, Pazy carried on: "Relax about this Cal thing. Who cares if he recognizes you? Who cares if he talks to you? His job is to do your damn paperwork or he's in big trouble. You let me know if he bothers you. Or inform any of the nearby security guards. If he harasses you call him out for it publicly. You're in no danger."

"I doubt he'd ever cause a scene. He'll feign indifference while plotting behind the scenes."

Pazy sighed, "Either way – he'll be caught and punished. I promise. I'm shocked a fiery gal like you would let yourself be intimidated like this."

"My disconcertion is understandable." Rose was defensive. "This will be the first time we've spoken since the sinking."

"Well. Ya. It all went to hell that night. I can see how reuniting could be a touch awkward." Pazy admitted. "But you've got nothing to worry about. He'd be ludicrous to risk anything. The system is on your side. I've got your back. I promise."

And then he added, smiling – "Besides, bad guys never win."

**oooooooo**

And Pazy was shockingly correct. When Rose next sat with Cal it was business as usual. If the paper pusher recognized her, he feigned ignorance. Perhaps he'd been pretending from the very start. How could he not recognize her? Especially after she'd drawn so much attention to herself.

Rose expected the obnoxious coworker at the next desk to say something to her. He never did. The confrontations she had expected never came to pass. No one paid her any special attention at all.

Session after session after session rolled by and Cal did not treat her any differently from the other souls. Either he was an incredible actor… or he genuinely didn't know her anymore. He just processed her papers, barely looking at her or speaking to her. It was uncanny.

Was his soul crushed to the point he didn't recognize her anymore? Or was he just pretending? And if he was pretending – Was it because he was extremely uncomfortable? Or was something wicked up his sleeve?

Pazy basked in his correctness like the silly fool he was, naturally.

Yet all the while Rose was paranoid. Cal could easily be plotting. He could be the architect of some sort of horrible, complicated revenge. He was cunning and very good at creating opportunities. For all Rose knew something dreadful lurked in her future and there would be zero evidence to implicate Cal. He would go unpunished for ruining her.

"My file has been flagged and he's a model employee. Who are they going to believe?" She'd asked Pazy unhappily.

Yes, Cal seemed the model employee. Rose knew for a fact he would _despise_ serving people. He'd been warped into believing he was superior and had commanded servants and workers with minimal respect his entire life. Yet here he was working hard for no reward. Sure, he had to do his job or face deadly consequences, but he didn't have to be so damn diligent. Was it pride? Or was it all some plot?

"My money's on pride!" Pazy had chimed in. "He's proud as hell. He thinks he's smart and skilled and superior, right? So naturally he's going to prove it. His job is all that's left. He's probably trying to validate himself."

"But he also understands the value of credibility." Rose mumbled darkly.

"Hm." Pazy looked thoughtful. "It's probably both."

As time passed Rose learned more and more about purgatory. Though she'd promised Pazy she'd behave, she continued to cautiously explore and ask questions. And strange little things would happen which educated her indirectly. She was bored and so she absorbed even the most subtle hints like a sponge.

It didn't take her long to learn the Abyss was the place souls were sent for punishment. Some were imprisoned there temporarily, whereas others were exiled permanently. She wasn't at all sure how they determined such things. Perhaps it depended on one's offence… or the number of offences? Regardless, it was somewhere one did not want to end up. It was the closest thing to Hell she'd heard of so far.

It also wasn't clear if the Abyss was the same for everyone or if it differed from person to person like so many other elements of the afterlife. Rose understood it to be a void, an absence. It lacked the crucial element souls needed to thrive. Whatever that was.

Rose spent most of her time in different boring, white waiting rooms. She would sleep, read, chat – but mostly she would think. She would consider all those who had died before her and all those she had left behind. Who had unfinished business? Who would be waiting on the other side? What were her children and grandchildren doing right now? Decades had passed. So many people she cared for would have died by now… The world would have moved on quickly without her…

Rose found herself preoccupied with suicide. She'd think about all the people she'd known or heard of who had committed suicide. They were somewhere wandering the halls around her. She would also think about literary figures and historical figures too.

What was the ideology for punishing these people so severely? Had they disrespected a sacred gift given to them? Was it the greatest crime of all? What of other crimes? Were murderers punished? If so… how?

One sleep Rose dreamed of Shakespeare's Ophelia brushing her hair tearfully beneath a weeping willow by the side of a pond. As silent tears rolled the girl was using the water's still surface as a mirror. Her misery was overwhelming. Rose had woken in deep melancholy.

So many people had killed themselves the night of the sinking. Many indirectly. Would deaths like that of dear Mr. Andrews count as suicide? The thought was disconcerting. She'd been incredibly fond of Thomas Andrews. The idea of him mopping floors or making photocopies for all eternity broke her heart.

And Mr. Murdoch was definitely here somewhere. She'd read in the newspapers shortly after the sinking that he'd shot himself in the head during all the horrific pressure of loading the lifeboats. That also hurt her heart. She hadn't really known the man, but she'd sensed he was a good person. Having to load those boats would have been monstrous. Especially with beasts like Cal harassing you to forsake women and children.

UGH. Cal again. She'd thought of him constantly since she'd started her sessions with Pazy. Lately he weighed on her thoughts more than her husband, more than Jack Dawson.

Reliving so many Cal memories with Pazy and having to interact with him constantly over her paperwork was really starting to take a toll on her. It was just sickening. Was this someone's twisted idea of a joke? Was she being punished for something?

It wasn't that Cal was difficult to deal with here. He was all business. She was just horrifically uncomfortable. Moreover, interacting with Cal brought back so many memories of her old abandoned life. And it was likely supposed to.

She was continuously surprised by how well she could read the man after all these years. She watched him interacting with hundreds of souls and she understood his body language very well. She'd forgotten how much time they'd spent together. He hadn't exactly been a stranger. They'd courted and been engaged – a period of over a year and a half. In the very beginning things had been almost pleasant.

Yet whenever Rose spent time dwelling on Cal's good qualities... a painful memory or a frightening nightmare would bring her back to reality. The bad outweighed the good. In the early months of 1912, once Cal had settled into his role, he started showing some ugly tendencies that depressed her. The events aboard Titanic proved the breaking point – he started to actually frighten her.

Now nightmares were a constant source of anxiety…

_She would try to be pleasant today. There was no reason to cower, feigning nonchalance. If he did secretly recognize her, she wanted him to understand she wasn't afraid of him anymore. In fact, she was perfectly comfortable. _

_And so Rose sat down and smiled attractively. "Good morning."_

_Cal didn't even look up. "Morning no longer exists."_

"_Sorry. Force of habit." Rose shrugged agreeably. Trying to be friendly._

_Cal just ignored her in his usual disconnected manner. _

_So she decided to stop pretending to be nice to him. He'd clearly given up pretending to be social long ago. There was no need to pretend here. _

_And then he dialed his phone with great blasé, as though as she wasn't even sitting there. He didn't even bother to signal 'one moment please'… _

"_Yes… yes… It's 124… right…" He was taking his time on the phone today. Was he trying to annoy her or something? _

_Finally – "Thank you very much." And he hung up._

"_Sorry about that." He turned to her. _

_And then he shocked her by continuing: "Look. It doesn't have to be awkward between us, Rose. In fact, I've got a present for you."_

_She was utterly taken aback. What? Not only did he admit to fully recognizing her, but he was offering an olive branch? Did Cal still think he could win people over with gifts? What the hell?_

_And he handed her a small mirror._

"_I can't accept this." She blurted out anxiously. "I—"_

_And then two burly security guards ripped Rose from her chair._

"_WHA—" She was extremely alarmed._

"_Give us that!" The first guard snatched the mirror from her hands._

"_Strike two, missy. You're coming with us." The second guard snarled into her face nastily._

"_You catch so many, buddy. You never cease to amaze me!" The second guard chortled to Cal._

"_Just doing my job." Cal smiled with a modest charisma that made Rose want to rip his head off. His phone call suddenly made perfect sense._

"_He's lying! He's framed me!" Rose thrashed, seething. "He frames people!"_

"_Uh huh. Of course he does." The first guard rolled his eyes. "That's what they all say."_

_As they pulled her away forcefully, Rose glared darkly at Cal. "You… you…"_

"_Unimaginable bastard?" He offered, smiling. "Farewell, sweetpea." _

_In that moment Rose understood homicide. _

_As they tossed her roughly into a cell, the beautiful red head felt her anger shifting into fear. Yet she refused to outright panic. Pazy would get her out of this. Pazy had promised to—_

"_Uh, Rosey…" Pazy motioned to her from the next cell, clearly in shackles. _

_Rose's heart froze in her chest._

"_I think I underestimated this bastard." Pazy admitted gravely. _

**oooooooo**

The dreams were coming frequently and Rose was concerned. Unfortunately, Pazy was always very dismissive when she raised the subject…

Currently she was trying to vent and he wasn't even listening. He was flipping through her papers trying to plan their itinerary.

He scratched his head. "Hmmm… I'm thinking Grandmother's 80th Birthday Party today…"

"Pazy, listen, I think – Oh GOD, that was a horrible day."

"Exactly. Though not as bad as Grandfather's 80th Birthday Party."

She scowled, "Stop cracking jokes at my family's expense! My childhood scars aren't on display for your amusement, thank you very much."

"Oh, Rosey…" Pazy instantly looked sorry.

"Why don't you just bring popcorn?" She gestured dramatically.

"Why are you so pissed off?" Pazy was surprised.

"Because once again you aren't listening to my _real _problems! I'm concerned and you just ignore me and crack jokes…"

"Ok, ok…" Pazy sighed. "I hate it when you put your war paint on. You're certainly a pistol, ya know that?"

"So I've been told." Rose was unable to hide a slight smirk.

"As flattered as I am to be appearing in your dreams… I think your mind is just wrestling with seeing your ex in a different light. Things have completely changed and your mind is sorting through it."

There was a silence and then Pazy unexpectedly asked – "Do the janitors call me _Crazy Pazy_?"

"Excuse me?" Rose blinked in surprise.

"Nevermind. Just figured you'd be honest with me." Pazy brushed it away.

Rose decided now was not the time to tell Pazy the many, _many_ things people said about him. In fact she never wanted to open that can of worms.

**oooooooo**

As the sessions passed Rose came to really know Pazy. She loved his friendliness and his energy. He had a very good heart. And yet she disliked his carelessness. It was his one true failing.

They had shared many random tangents. She was sincerely interested in his culture and religion. He'd been raised in poor fishing village. He came from a long line of fisherman and was destined to be a fisherman himself. His family's patron god was naturally Poseidon. Unfortunately, the gods could be cruel and a storm claimed the lives of his father and brothers. Their boat had been lost as well. His family destitute and in ruins, young Pazy had eventually enlisted in the legions.

A natural athlete Pazy was constantly praised by his superiors. Yet there was an unmistakable ceiling to his advancement in the ranks as he lacked… um, he lacked… well, anyone who knew Pazy understood precisely why he'd never be a commander.

Rose knew nothing of his suicide. She also had no idea if he'd had a wife or children. She intuitively sensed questions in these areas were completely off limits.

The pair developed a very casual, friendly rapport. In fact, Rose really appreciated Pazy's company. For all his foolishness, he was very good company. When he wasn't upsetting her about the past, he truly brightened her purgatory experience.

Once Rose even offered to let Pazy sleep during her session. His soul so desperately needed rest.

Pazy had smiled, "Wow. When they made you they broke the mold! How can someone be an angel _and_ a devil?"

And then he'd sadly informed her he was incapable of rest. But he liked the idea of laying his head in his arms on the desk and closing his eyes for a while. Pretending. The darkness behind his eyes was somehow pleasant. He would never feel rejuvenated, but at least he had the illusion of resting peacefully. At least there was a PAUSE finally.

Rose's progress with Pazy was very slow, possibly nonexistent. He was constantly making mistakes.

Once they had actually transitioned into the backseat of a modern car. The driver was a complete stranger pumping gasoline at the window. He'd left the battery on, however, and the radio was playing.

"Where are we?" Rose was extremely confused.

"SHHH! Music!" Pazy lunged forward and turned up the radio.

A beautiful string of piano notes filled the car.

_Making every kind of silence_

_It takes a lot to realize_

_It's worse to finish than to start all over_

_And never let it lie_

_And as long as I can feel you holding on…_

"Hear that?" Pazy smirked. "It's better to revisit issues in order to let them rest. Yet you keep holding on…"

"Can we please transition into MY life?" Rose was exasperated.

_I know that I'm not perfect_

_But I keep trying_

_Coz that's what I said I would do from the start…_

"Oh wow. This should be my theme song." Pazy laughed.

"You're taking it all out of context." Rose grasped her head. "Now could we please visit my memories?"

"Oh come on, we never get to hear music ever…" Pazy whined.

The driver reentered the car and found the music blaring. "What the hell?"

"Actually, we better go." Pazy grabbed her.

But after that Pazy had started collecting music the way he collected important quotations from memories. And like the quotations, he started inserting lyrics into the sessions where he felt them relevant. With the casual pointing of his finger, he could create sound for Rose. It could be helpful or amusing at times, but mostly it was just another symptom of his quirkiness.

**oooooooo**

Rose entered the administrative area, passing through a doorway very quickly and smashing a young woman to the ground with the forcefulness of the opening door. The girl's photocopying flew everywhere.

Rose was horrified. "Oh Heavens!" She gasped. "I'm so sorry!"

Cal had unfortunately been passing by with a stack of folders. He set them down immediately and approached the woman to offer assistance.

"Are you alright?" He asked courteously, helping the girl to her feet.

The girl was surprised at the attention. Most drones lacked the energy to get involved. "Oh, I'm fine, thanks. It didn't hurt at all. This body isn't real."

A very uncharacteristic look crossed Cal's face as he released her hand. An incredibly casual _'Hm, ok, got me there'_ sort of expression.

"I'm so sorry." Rose repeatedly, clearly embarrassed.

"No worries. It was an accident." The girl stopped to pick up her copies. She sounded tired and spiritless.

"Let me help!" Rose was visibly flustered. What an awkward situation.

"No, no, ladies. Allow me." Cal insisted chivalrously. And they let him play the gentleman.

Rose felt absolutely foolish. SHE should be the one picking up the papers. Why did Cal have to come along with his old school gentlemanliness? She'd quite forgotten this side of him. There were times he had been extremely polite, perhaps even charming. It had been drilled into his head from an early age that you act like this towards people you consider your equal. The problem had been his ridiculously narrow definition of _equal._

Considering his courtesy just now, perhaps Cal had widened that definition since his death. The class divisions had certainly been blurred over the decades… She found herself wondering just who he would respect and disrespect under these new circumstances. How did he judge people now?

He handed the girl her papers and she was grateful, "Aww, thank you. It's nice that someone in this office still shows a little soul."

Cal shrugged, "It's in random moments like this that I briefly feel alive."

"Exactly." The girl was visibly glad he understood what she meant.

And then she started to walk away. "You know…" She smiled over her shoulder. "You're clearly from a long lost era of decorum. I wish there had been more guys like you in the 90s."

"No, no you don't." Cal answered honestly.

The girl stopped walking, visibly confused.

"I'm Edwardian. In my era women didn't even wear pants." He quipped.

And she instantly understood what he meant and laughed as she walked away.

Wow. Apparently Cal recognized his sexism now. And it made sense. He was working with women as equals every day. His _supervisors _might be women. Wow! The thought had never even crossed Rose's mind! Cal had probably had to rectify (at least superficially) his attitude and behaviour towards women in order to do his job here.

And then Cal remembered Rose was standing there. "And are you alright?"

Rose was suddenly frightened. His gaze was falling on her in a casual way that was not _at all_ comfortable.

Flustered, she managed, "Oh, yes. I'm just embarrassed. Thank you."

He started to walk away, "Don't feel bad. It happens all the time. That door should open inward."

And then he was gone and she was left frozen. Finally, relief washed over her and she could leave.

Yet she had mixed feelings over the episode and quickly recounted it in full to Pazy… who just doodled…

"Well?" Rose finished.

"Well…" Pazy finished drawing. "In creating this visual aid I have come up with a theory."

He propped up the large drawing for Rose to see.

"Which woman am I?" Rose frowned in confusion.

"The one NOT on the ground." Pazy sounded unimpressed with her.

"UH…" Rose was at a loss.

"You're the one with the ringlets!" Pazy insisted.

"You're a very poor drawer." Rose informed him truthfully.

"Well _sorry._ We all can't be Jack Dawson." Pazy spit out his tongue good-humoredly.

Rose laughed warmly at this.

Pazy smiled, "NOW… this is clearly Cal… see? He's wearing a little bowler hat."

"And the point of this is…?" Rose prompted her caseworker.

"Oh right. I have a theory." Pazy offered enthusiastically. "I think you're supposed to see the good in Cal in order to forgive him and move on."

"You needed to draw a large—"

"Work with me here." Pazy interrupted impatiently. "I think you're supposed to remember he wasn't all bad, see that he's changed a bit… and, ya know, sorta pity him. The bad feelings are supposed to get stomped out."

"You've implied that from the very beginning." Rose was unimpressed.

"And this is why they pay me the big bucks." Pazy motioned to himself with his thumbs, smirking proudly.

And then he slammed a sharpener on the desk top. "Check it out. An electric pencil sharpener. We're talking about a career _on fire_ here. I can even leave the room once and a while."

Rose laughed again. She was never frosty with Pazy long.

**oooooooo**

"So…" Pazy made a face. "Where are these rape dreams coming from?"

"I'm so thankful I landed such a sensitive and professional caseworker." Rose rolled her eyes.

"Seriously. That's three rapes dreams in a row." Pazy frowned. "That's coming from somewhere, sweety."

"UH…" Rose felt very awkward.

"And you thought I wasn't listening!" Pazy teased her.

"This isn't something I'm comfortable discussing, really." Rose cleared her throat. "Particularly with someone who tends to trivialize everything, making random comments and inappropriate jokes…"

Pazy frowned, "I won't make any jokes about THIS."

"If you must know…" Rose shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Cal was a little pushy in that area. He didn't want to wait until marriage. I sometimes felt like a prize, or worse, a conquest. I hated the way he talked about my virginity—"

"OK, shut up, shut up, shut up." Pazy covered his ears abruptly. "I don't wanna hear about Cal talking dirty."

"He didn't talk dirty." Rose immediately flushed.

"Oh yes he did." Pazy made a face. And then pointed to cue a quotation:

Cal's voice filled the room: _And tonight when I crawl between the sheets…_

"Shut up, shut up, shut up." It was Rose's turn to cover her ears abruptly.

"Told you!" Pazy pointed accusingly.

"You promised you'd be decent about this!" Rose hissed at him.

"You can't hide from this." Pazy insisted. He pointed again.

This time they heard Cal say: _The first and only. Forever._

Pazy looked thoughtful. "Hm. That part sounded kinda romantic. Or affectionate. In a _possessive_ type way, of course."

"Possessive is an understatement." Rose crossed her arms. "He couldn't wait to mark me as his property."

"Oh, come on, you were using the guy for his money. Don't get all _saintly _on me here, Rosey." Pazy stifled an incredulous laugh.

He then saw the dangerous look on her pretty face and decided to abruptly change the mood – "And now for some music!" Pazy announced cheerfully. "I do birthdays, weddings, school dances… tell your friends."

Rose sounded exhausted, "If you had a point please reach it…"

"I bet listening to that quotation a few more times would remove that uncomfortable _sting. _When you stop cringing at memories… you'll be ready…"

"You can't be serious!" Rose was incredulous now.

"OK, all joking aside." Pazy's face sobered immediately. "This guy didn't actually rape you did he?"

"No." Rose admitted. "But I constantly felt pressured. And the few times I actually consented I hadn't wanted to… I just... I wasn't forced, but I _felt _forced."

"Trapped by circumstance." Pazy volunteered. "You needed to play your part. You needed the marriage and so you had to pretend—"

"I don't want to talk about this." Rose interrupted.

Pazy wouldn't let her off the hook. "Just admit it. You misled the guy. You and your mother were using him."

"I was forced!" Rose snapped defensively. "Mother—"

"This is the core of your unfinished business." Pazy interrupted. "You refuse to admit you did anything wrong. You truly believe that you were 110% the victim and you view all your actions in a very certain way."

"But—"

"We won't launch into that right now. It's heavy duty, believe me. Skeletons like that don't want to be torn outta the closet. They go _kicking and screaming_. And we're not up for that today..."

**oooooooo**

Rose was discovering the hard way that she wasn't over her father's death.

Pazy had decided to tackle her father issues, despite leaving so many other unresolved issues on the table. Perhaps addressing issues simultaneously was effective as they were intertwined or overlapping… OR perhaps Pazy was just disorganized…

Whatever the case, they found themselves watching her father's deathbed scene and it was horrible. Rose had asked repeatedly not to be placed in this position. Towards the end she'd downright_ begged. _She desperately didn't want to relive the experience – which was precisely why Pazy insisted it was absolutely necessary. She needed to face her fears.

She shifted her weight between her feet anxiously…sensing the final moments were coming…

She felt her anxiety building… and building… and—

It was too horrible to bear. Rose fled the room tearfully.

Pazy started to call after her and then clapped his mouth shut abruptly. He couldn't scream in this silent room, they living would surely hear him and their lives would be altered permanently. Imagine someone screaming ROSE at that pivotal moment.

Pazy had no choice but to catch her on foot.

Meanwhile, Rose was dashing out of the house altogether. She had to get away. She didn't want to experience her father's passing all over again. She needed to escape the situation.

Yet the second she set foot outside everything changed. The air was suddenly freezing cold… everything was so much darker… The shadows were so prominent and possibly _growing._ Her surroundings felt distant as though she was disconnected from them.

It was almost as though the world was in grayscale…

Rose stopped running. She grabbed herself tightly, actually feeling cold for the first time since her passing. How could she possibly be _cold?_ She turned, looking around anxiously. What was happening?

"Rose!" She heard Pazy's voice. It sounded so far away. It echoed.

She needed to go back inside. Something was wrong. She sensed danger!

Unfortunately, she couldn't reenter the house. She was somehow disconnected from the scene completely. She couldn't move within it anymore. She existed outside it, cold and vulnerable.

"Pazy!" She screamed, realizing she was in trouble.

Never leave the scene! It had been one of the cardinal rules. In her flight from that horrible deathbed scene she had completely forgotten to stick close to the action, to stay with Pazy…

"ROSE!" She heard Pazy… echoing far, far away…

And then she realized the shadows really were growing around her. Threateningly so! They were advancing on her. And she knew if they touched her she was doomed.

"Pazy! HELP!" Rose desperately tried to reenter the scene, but couldn't.

The shadows were advancing quickly now.

Rose wanted to run, but was too shocked and alarmed. Reflexively, her arms shot up to protect herself.

The shadows lunged and she screeched and recoiled.

**oooooooo**


	4. Chapter 4

**UNFINISHED BUSINESS**

**Chapter 4**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own anything from James Cameron's **_**Titanic**_** or Tim Burton's **_**Beetlejuice.**_

**A/N:**** Thanks for reviewing! I apologize for the typos. **

**I'm so glad readers like Pazy. He's such an integral part of the story. Thanks for the feedback! **

**oooooooo**

"ROSE!" Pazy's voice echoed somewhere distantly.

The icy gray scene was rapidly darkening with shadows. Rose, trapped outside the memory, cowered reflexively as these shadows grew and spread, advancing upon her. Cold, empty and isolated, she was flooded with an adrenaline survival panic. Yet there was nothing she could do. There was nowhere to run.

There was scarcely time to react.

She recoiled, screeching loudly as the shadows pounced on her predatorily.

Rose felt the claws graze her all over… but simultaneously she felt something else… Someone grabbed her arm roughly.

Someone had her firmly by the arm and was pulling her upwards and away!

Rose and Pazy collapsed to the ground in her childhood home. Instantly the scene around them transitioned into Pazy's office. He didn't waste a _millisecond_ in getting them the hell out of there!

"Oh my GOD!" Pazy grabbed her face, absolutely terrified. "HOLY CRAP!"

Rose, rattled to her core, automatically burst into tears. Her loud sobbing was totally unrestrained. Despite her profound shock, her body was fully reacting. Petrified and hurting, she was in rough shape. Rose looked half dead – drained, pale and _very sick_. Her appearance was alarming! She couldn't stop sobbing loudly, nor could she stop trembling violently. She was just so shaken and sick.

Rose vomited all over the floor. The nausea was overwhelming. For a moment she was certain she was going to perish on the spot.

"You're going to be alright!" Pazy was on the ground with her. "You're ok."

He was trying to reassure her, but he didn't sound confident at all. In fact, he sounded frightened. He was trying to convince _himself_. Clearly she was teetering on a deadly edge…

Rose threw up again violently. It racked through her body and hurt like hell.

Pazy sat with her, his voice wobbling with wet anxiety. "You're ok…"

He eventually motioned for something soothing for her.

Sure enough, Jack Dawson's voice started singing very softly: _Come Josephine in my flying machine…_

After a few quiet moments Pazy calmed down. He became fairly certain Rose would recover. Yet they would remain on the floor for quite some time. They were both drained and shaken. He thanked every single god he knew systematically – he was that grateful. Thank the GODS she was alright… His soul would have cracked had she perished on his watch…

Pazy wanted to talk about something light and happy, something to help her spirit as she was so desperately ill. Yet he couldn't bring himself to speak. He couldn't start. No words seemed appropriate after such trauma!

He glanced at the hour glass. Most of their session remained. He needed to help her recover… They needed to focus on positive, happy feelings… He'd get her talking about Jack Dawson.

"What happened?" Rose finally managed to speak. Her voice cracked sickly.

Pazy hesitated, clearly very sad, "You left the scene, sweety. Rule #1 – Never, ever leave the scene. You need to stick with me."

Rose coughed, "You didn't mention _anything _about murderous creatures, Pazy. You should have warned me!"

She then asked, her voice raspy – "What were those things?"

Pazy's frown deepened, "I have no idea. We just call them Shadows. Their purpose seems to be preventing souls from escaping into the memories."

"Escaping into…" Rose trailed off, confused and faint.

"If they weren't there someone could just decide to run away from their caseworker and remain in the past forever." Pazy explained quietly.

"What happens if they catch you?" Rose rasped weakly.

"Well… your soul is ruined…" Pazy swallowed uncomfortably. "It's like death for the dead. You still exist… but you're vanquished… I dunno… It's hard to explain. It's like being exorcised. It's the worst possible fate there is, sweety."

"You should have told me!" Rose choked out sickly.

"I'm sorry, Rosey. I'm not used to giving extensive explanations. I'm used to people just following the rules." Pazy answered sadly.

And then he touched her arm – "Thank the GODS you're alright. You scared the hell out of me. I don't think I've ever been that scared on the job. I'm so glad I got to you in time. It was a very, very close call."

After a pause he added, "Fortunately, you'll recover, no permanent harm done. No one ever has to find out—"

And then he froze. "Oh no…"

"What?" Rose's eyes widened.

Pazy lifted her arm, showing her the bare wrist.

"My bracelet's gone…" Rose realized quietly.

"So much for no one finding out." Pazy covered his eyes miserably. "Oh damn it. Why do these things always happen to me?"

**oooooooo**

There was much of their session left and continuing with their usual work was not an option. Rose needed to relax. She still looked deathly ill. Pazy needed to see her laugh and smile. So he quickly set her up in a chair with a cozy blanket and a hot chocolate. He then began talking to her about pleasant things… Eventually he brought up Jack…

"I love the guy's style. He's exactly how I wanna be." Pazy admitted. "Carefree, confident, nonchalant… He didn't give a damn what anyone thought. He just drifted on the breeze, totally free… Never in all my life and death have I known freedom like that…"

"His lifestyle appealed to me tremendously." Rose smiled faintly.

"And he was funny as hell." Pazy smiled brightly. "I enjoy listening to him. Great one liners."

"He certainly made me laugh." Rose agreed weakly. "He was so _open._ I was used to people be fake and closed off. I loved how honest and down to earth he was. It was extremely refreshing."

Pazy smiled and pointed casually for some sound.

A distinctly Irish voice filled the room: _"Music to drown by. Now I know I'm in first class." _

"That's not Jack." Rose frowned.

"No, it's not." Pazy made a face. "Let's try that again…"

"_I go to America!"_ A happy Italian accent surrounded them.

"That's definitely not Jack." Rose laughed now.

"That was his friend. We're getting closer." Pazy admitted. He was secretly relieved Rose had laughed, though. Some colour was returning to her face now and he was less nervous about her spiritual health.

After a moment, they heard Jack Dawson: _"God! Look at that thing! You would've gone straight to the bottom."_

"That's him." Rose smiled. Though she didn't like being reminded of the outrageously expensive engagement ring Cal had presented her. She was supposed to be thinking of Jack, not Cal kneeling down to propose.

Pazy, reading her mind and body language, picked a more appropriate quotation:

"_I saw that in a nickelodeon once and I've always wanted to do it."_

Rose smiled fondly, "He was so real with me. So genuine."

_So, you wanna go to a real party?_

"And fun! I wish I could'a partied with that guy." Pazy smirked.

"I laughed so hard that night. You have no idea." Rose's smile widened.

"_You're still my best girl, Cora." _

"The guy had a good heart." Pazy said thoughtfully. "He was decent to everyone. Even those he shouldn't have been. People could say horrible things to him and he'd always take the higher road. He was positive and loving and never hateful. I love the way he talked to people. If I could emulate anything about him… I wish I could be that personable, ya know?"

"You are personable, Pazy. You and Jack have much in common." Rose assured him faintly.

"What? We both died prematurely? Don't flatter me." Pazy rolled his eyes.

And then he played a brief exchange of words…

_Rose__: Teach me to ride like a man.  
__Jack__: And chew tobacco like a man.  
__Rose__: And spit like a man!  
__Jack__: What, they didn't teach you that in finishing school?_

Rose chuckled, "I've replayed that conversation in my mind a thousand times…"

"I know it's tactless of me, Rosey, but I just love this one." Pazy smiled sheepishly.

_Wait, wait, wait! Take a couple practice swings over there. _

"Oh God." Rose covered his forehead, smirking. The practice swings had gone very poorly.

_Okay, that's enough practice._

She grinned at Pazy. "It's funny now, I suppose."

Rose then paused, "Can I have another hot chocolate, please?"

She knew on some level that the hot drink was just an illusion, but it helped nonetheless. Psychologically, this was all extremely helpful. Every now and then Pazy demonstrated his true strengths of character.

"Of course, sweety. We've got lots of time left." He smiled kindly, rising from his chair. "You just get cozy and we'll listen to some more…"

**oooooooo**

Rose was hacking her way down a long hallway. Pazy had instructed her to see Cal about a new bracelet immediately as her sessions would cease entirely until she had a new one. She was currently outside the system and it wasn't good.

Unfortunately, she was too ill to tolerate Cal right now. She dreaded the idea of actually drawing special attention to herself and engaging him in real conversation. She would wait until she was feeling better before she tackled that unnerving bit of business.

She slumped into a wall momentarily, coughing loudly.

She was still vomiting periodically. The creatures that had attacked her were clearly lethal. She had barely survived an instant of contact. Her soul was drained and very sick. Pazy insisted time would remedy her condition, but she wasn't so sure. She wasn't really bouncing back. She'd never felt so ill in all her existence.

She continued to hack very, very deeply. It hurt like hell. She wished she could see her reflection. She suspected she was deathly pale. Actually, correction – she was thankful she couldn't see how badly she was doing. It would only frighten her further.

And then the urge to vomit was overwhelming.

She rushed forward, retching disgustingly…

"Here! Here!" A nearby custodian motioned to the garbage bag stretched across the back of his cart.

Rose immediately bolted for the garbage… and vomited painfully…

"Holy Hell…" The janitor was wide eyed.

When Rose was finally finished, she sheepishly backed away and apologized. The janitor handed her some paper towel to wipe her mouth.

"Someone had a close call." He whistled.

Rose paused. Was it that obvious? Were these telltale symptoms?

He saw her confusion and sighed, "You nearly died, didn't you?"

"I'm already dead." She sounded very sick.

Now the man looked irritated. "You know exactly what I mean. Your soul was nearly destroyed."

Rose didn't answer. She wasn't sure she should implicate herself or Pazy. Moreover, the man was being rude. She was so sick she could barely stand!

The custodian sighed audibly. "Let me show you something…"

Rose followed him down the hall. Really she just needed to find somewhere to sleep. She needed to rest and recover, yet she was curious and wanted to follow.

After a moment, they came to a door marked DO NOT ENTER. The custodian pulled out an enormous ring of keys. There were literally over a hundred keys on the large metal circle. He looked through them a moment and then settled on a creepy little skeleton key…

"Ok, stand back…" He started to open the door.

Rose gasped loudly.

The door revealed a glowing space of skeletal specters. Rotting ghosts floating in an empty space, their faces filled with anguish. They were clearly tormented, suffering beyond description.

"What are they?" She choked out, terrified.

The janitor quickly closed the door. "Lost Souls."

As he locked the door, he expanded: "Souls that have one way or another been destroyed. It's basically death for the dead."

"Good gracious…" Rose suddenly understood why he was showing her this.

**oooooooo**

When Rose had improved enough to stand in line without making a spectacle of herself, she stood waiting silently for the arrangement of a new bracelet. She still felt weak and sickly and the idea of actually talking to Cal only made it worse. Rose kept going over in her head precisely what she would say, but it didn't help. The closer she moved to the front of the line the worse her anxiety became. Her spiritual symptoms and her escalating fears had her spiraling on the verge of a panic attack.

She was fairly certain now that Hockley didn't recognize her, but that was irrelevant. Interacting with him was incredibly stressful and she was presently ill.

The balding man in front of her took his turn at Cal's desk.

Cal was visibly surprised by the man's arrival. "Oh." He faltered. "I never expected to see you again."

The man smiled, "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"One moment. I'll have to retrieve your file. It's rare for someone to complete a quest." Cal rose and then he walked all the way across the room to several enormous filing cabinets. Reading with his finger he selected a large drawer and then started quickly sorting through file folders…

Rose watched several nearby workers whisper discreetly to him.

Without slowing his progress or lifting his eyes, Cal gave an absent one word answer… which seemed to spark excitement amongst them all…

That obnoxious coworker Rose had argued with suddenly swooped over to the balding man like a vulture. "WOW! You made it! What was it like? Did you have to chop off the head of a dragon?"

Cal dropped back into his chair with a large file, rolling his eyes.

"Oh wow! I wish I had time to hear all about it!" The coworker beamed.

Cal had started into the paperwork immediately. The pen in his hand was flashing through the pages quickly. Then he stamped the final page loudly and set the folder aside, handing a few forms to the balding man. "Your file is active again. These forms will help you get a new bracelet so you can renew your sessions with your caseworker."

And then it was Rose's turn… So she decided to try for a segue. As she sat down she said: "I also need a new bracelet."

Cal stopped putting the forms away and started filling some out for her.

Unfortunately, the obnoxious coworker hadn't left – "Oh my GOD! You look like someone tried to exorcise you!"

Rose ignored him entirely. So he asked loudly – "DID someone try to exorcise you?"

Cal cleared his throat and turned to the man, "Mclean, serve your clients. Your line is so long you're rivaling Vespasian's inefficiency. In fact, some of the Neanderthals have gone from fire to electricity in your absence."

"Alright, alright." His coworker hissed, walking away. "Jeez."

Rose watched Mclean leave and was thankful Cal had gotten rid of him. She didn't want to answer any questions about her condition. Unfortunately, she had no idea what was coming next.

Cal paused in the paperwork, pen on a blank – "Reason for the replacement?"

Rose drew blank. She just stared at him.

His dark eyes glanced up, waiting…

Rose shifted uncomfortably, "It fell off."

Cal set down his pen, failing to mask his skepticism, "They don't _fall off. _Judging from your spiritual state it's safe to assume you strayed from a scene and were attacked."

Rose's temper flared. He was being condescending, one of his worst qualities. So she responded icily, "It was an accident. Those creatures clawed at me and somehow slashed off the bracelet."

Cal frowned, "How did you escape?"

"My caseworker pulled me back."

"Vespasian, no doubt." Cal glanced at her file. "Ah, yes. Of course."

He started to say more and then thought better of it. He promptly bit his tongue and continued to fill out her papers in silence.

Rose wondered what he'd been about to say. She suspected something to the effect of – _"This is what happens when a clown runs the circus."_ She didn't ask him, though.

He seamlessly transitioned into pouring another cup of steamy coffee and handing it to her. "Here. You clearly need this. It's strong."

Rose took the Styrofoam cup and realized she should thank him. Thanking Cal had never been easy. In fact, she had rarely thanked him for anything during their engagement. He had considered her icy and impossible to please.

"Thank you." She said quietly, sipping from the cup.

He handed her the forms. "I trust you need directions?"

Rose frowned. She had no idea where to go next.

He interpreted her silence correctly and was instantly writing out some directions for her. It likely wasn't in his job description and it should have been viewed as a kind act, but Cal had a talent for tainting kind acts with his tone and manner. That was one of the very reasons he was so damn difficult to thank.

He handed her a small paper with his pleasing cursive on it.

Then he added bluntly, "I worded it all as generously as possible. Unfortunately, I doubt you'll escape interrogation. I advise you to shift the blame to Vespasian. I'm sure that's where it belongs."

There he went again. Attempting to be kind and coming across horribly.

Rose hesitated and then asked, "Why do you dislike my caseworker?"

Cal's expression hardened, "I hardly know the man. I merely take offense to his negligence, particularly when others suffer for it."

Rose realized she still couldn't resist challenging him. She pushed, "Are you jealous that he was made caseworker? Is he ill-suited for the position?"

Cal was indifferent, "He'd botchany position."

"That's not what I meant." Rose pushed again. "Are you jealous he has a better job than you?"

Cal snorted, "God no. I'm precisely where I'm supposed to be. Casework is only superior if you're a people person who enjoys in depth conversations with strangers about incredibly personal feelings."

"Not much of a people person?" Rose asked lightly. Another push. She couldn't help it. He deserved it.

His voice tightened – "I would find the job unpleasant. I'd rather not watch the worst moments of every life, thank you."

Sensing tension she decided to stop pushing. In the past she had pushed past such warning signs. She had pushed him to his breaking point aboard the Titanic. Of course, he was responsible for his own actions… but strangely… she suddenly recognized her role in… well…somewhat _instigating_… She could have been more diplomatic and less combative, she supposed…As much it was his fault for being so snobby and domineering… she couldn't deny she had constantly and very knowingly pushed his buttons—

She stopped that train of thought abruptly.

"Can't argue with that." She answered him indifferently. Refusing to look at him anymore, she took her papers and was gone.

**oooooooo**

Rose hoped for the best as she took a number. Sadly, the tremendously long, spiraling little strip of white paper read 72, 602, 312, 881, 722, 943. It seemed a lot of people were having troubles in purgatory at the moment.

Extremely discouraged she slumped into a chair in the crowded waiting room, cursing herself for screwing up and delaying her crossing for another twenty years probably.

"An asteroid might destroy the earth before I cross over at this rate." She grumbled to herself darkly. This was just horrible. The last time she'd been waiting with a number it had taken over 14 years to enter the system. Now she'd been knocked out of the system again—

A man interrupted her thoughts, "I wonder what the earth is like now."

Rose turned to the cowboy beside her. He was literally a cowboy. It wasn't just the clothes or the accent – he was clearly from the 1800s American frontier. And he was rather filthy, actually.

"If you're from the 19th century, I assure you, it's changed tremendously. I lived a century and I can promise you that."

"You lived a whole century?" The cowboy tipped his hat back.

"You bet your ass I did." Rose smirked warmly.

The cowboy whistled. "Wow. An' here I thought I did well making 55."

"You don't look 55." Rose blinked.

"And you don't look 100, sweety." He laughed pleasantly. "Death's funny like that, ain't it?"

They sat in silence for a moment and the cowboy finally asked – "So what was the world like when ya left it?"

"Technology advanced so much in my lifetime. Machines could do just about anything, scientists know so much more, doctors could cure so many things… um, people could travel and communicate all over the world very quickly…"

Rose faltered. It was extremely difficult to explain some of the advances to someone from the 1800s. How could she explain something like the Internet? How could she explain a computer?

"We've gone to space." She informed him cheerfully.

"Space? What do you mean?" The cowboy was confused.

"We've traveled to the moon." Rose clarified.

"How in the hell did we manage that?"

"Well, we built vehicles that could travel into space." Rose racked her brain for an easy way to convey the information. "We've made all kinds of vehicles for the air, water and ground."

"Air? Like flying?" The cowboy was surprised. "Those flying machines?"

"Yes. It became the fastest way to travel. When I died there were flights leaving every country every hour – thousands of them, going everywhere. They fly above the clouds and follow flight paths so they don't hit one another."

"I'll be damned. We made fun of the clowns putting those contraptions together. They looked stupid and always crashed. I'll be _damned._"

Rose laughed and decided she rather liked this cowboy. So she extended a soft hand, "My name is Rose Calvert."

"Fast Freddy." His hand was warm and rough as they shook.

"I take it you were a gunslinger then?" Rose was uncertain.

"Hell yes. And a damn good one." He replied passionately. And then he seemed to feel justification was necessary, so he added – "Bastards had to shoot me in the back in my old age to finally get me."

Rose had no tactful response at the juncture, so she just smiled politely.

Freddy eventually said, "So many years have passed now since you died, I reckon the world has changed again entirely. You'd probably be astounded… and, hell, I wouldn't even recognize the place!"

"I can't even imagine what it's like now." Rose admitted distantly. It was a mind numbing concept.

**oooooooo**

An eternity passed in that waiting room. Rose enjoyed chatting with Fast Freddy, but she was growing weary of the long wait. When silence lapsed the two slept or read or just stared off into space mindlessly…

At one point she decided to ask Freddy about quests.

"Quests, eh?" Freddy frowned. "Don't know nothing about 'em."

A woman spoke up unexpectedly. "They are the only way out of a permanent sentence to the Abyss."

Rose and Freddy glanced over at a woman with two heads. She was flipping aimlessly through a thick magazine. One head was reading indifferently while the other head was fast asleep, drooping on the shoulder.

It didn't look like she was going to volunteer any more information, so Rose was forced to prompt her. "How does it work?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." The woman didn't look up. "I've just heard that everything is _fair_ in purgatory. You have a chance to redeem yourself and resume your crossing over. However, you could just as easily die trying. And by die I mean—"

"I know what you mean." Rose interrupted, frowning. "I've had a very close call. And I've seen Lost Souls."

"Where's the entrance to this Abyss? Who runs it?" Freddy asked.

The woman shrugged. "I don't know if there's an actual entrance. I really don't know how it works at all. As for… well, I've heard rumors of a fellow named Rex being the gatekeeper. People whisper about him uneasily as if he's the dark angel Lucifer. Like he's the Master of Hell. I highly doubt it's anything like that, though."

Rose and Freddy exchanged uneasy expressions.

"I dunno about you…" Freddy whispered. "But I hope I don't get anymore strikes against me. I've already got one."

"Me too." Rose admitted nervously.

She remembered Pazy warning her when she was flagged – _You only get so many strikes._

Cal's warning about shifting the blame to Pazy came back to her too. He'd said something about an interrogation. Obviously there was going to be trouble and someone had to answer for it. She didn't want to betray Pazy… yet she also didn't want to end up in the Abyss.

**oooooooo**

The wait dragged on and on and Rose had several dreams as she rested…

In one of the more memorable dreams she was married to Jack Dawson. Only they lived in the home she had shared with her husband in the latter half of the 20th century and Jack still looked young and poor. But dreams don't have to make sense. Rose was enjoying herself immensely.

That is until the floor cracked open, splitting the house in half and revealing an icy black ocean beneath. The house sank steadily into the deadly ocean crack as the pair screamed…

Rose had woken with such a start she'd fallen from her chair. Fast Freddy had helped her up, extremely concerned. She patted his arm and assured him it was just a nightmare and that she was fine.

The other memorable dream was incredibly bizarre…

_Rose, Jack and Pazy drifted in a rickety old lifeboat. It was very small, old fashioned and made of aging wood. It was more like a little row boat, frankly. _

_Jack was focused on shaping a tiny piece of metal into a proper fishing hook. He'd instructed Rose to untangle a long, thin mess of string. _

_Pazy lay tanning in the sun, relaxing in sunglasses. _

"_Pazy…" Rose sighed. "We could really use your help." _

"_Hey, I haven't slept in thousands of years. I finally, finally, __**finally**__ have a chance to sleep." Pazy replied dismissively, not moving a millimeter. _

"_But—" Rose started._

"_Jack's got survival covered." Pazy smiled dismissively._

_Jack rolled his eyes, flashing Rose an expression that indicated being trapped in a tiny lifeboat with Pazy would drive him insane before they were ever rescued. _

_Rose stifled a laugh and they continued to work._

_The hook was ready long before the mess of string was untangled. So Jack started helping with that… but it only seemed to get worse…_

"_You know, Paze…" Jack sighed. "We—"_

"_Nah, too many cooks spoil the broth." Pazy snuggled in comfortably._

_Finally they were ready. Jack attached the hook to the rope. "Let's just hope some enormous fish doesn't grab it and flip the boat." He muttered._

_Pazy loudly knocked on wood._

_Almost instantly something snagged the line and Rose and Jack grabbed on tightly. Jack instructed her to assist him in weighing down the opposite side of the boat so they could try to pull the monster in without—_

"_SHOOT." Jack cut the line. The boat relaxed. _

_Pazy was unfazed. The boat had nearly flipped and he didn't react. All he said was a nonchalant, "Guess we should have __**all**__ knocked on wood, eh?" _

_Jack next dangled the string to see if any curious little fish would bite at it. He could see hundreds of fish below them when the light shone at a certain angle. Unfortunately, he couldn't catch any that ventured near. He tried using his jacket to scoop them up, but it didn't work. _

_He next tried spitting on the surface… He continued to use the jacket to scoop. They were much more interested in saliva than a string…_

_Finally, they caught a little fish. Jack nearly fell into the water, but they had something to eat._

"_I love you for trying…" Pazy smiled, "But the dead don't need to eat..." _

"_You couldn't have spoken up before?" Jack hissed at him tiredly. _

"_This is a dream, Jack. You know how it goes…" Pazy shrugged._

_Eventually the wind picked up and the waves grew large enough to worry the little trio. The boat was rocking menacingly. _

"_The weather's turning. Pray we get rescued really soon… coz this boat won't take any sort of storm…" Jack frowned gravely._

_The sky turned solid gray and shadow fell over them. The ocean looked black and freezing cold now. The wind increased and the waves became more alarming…_

_After a moment, Pazy raised his sunglasses and rested them in his hair. "This is the official crossroads, kids. It is here we discover if we're in a good dream or a bad dream. Judging from the weather, I'm expecting a downright nightmare." _

"_Wait…" Rose was animated. "I see a ship coming!"_

_Jack turned and smiled, "A ship! We're saved!"_

"_Don't be so sure." Pazy snorted. "Knowing dreams it'll probably be Cal Hockley's yacht. He'll be chilling on a deck chair in dark shades sipping brandy with a big cigar… laughing at our fate…"_

_Jack and Rose immediately knocked on wood._

_Pazy blinked, "My bad." And then he also knocked loudly on the boat._

_The ship grew closer and closer… _

"_Oh good. It's going to rescue us." Rose grabbed Jack's arm. _

"_Or crash into us." Pazy muttered. _

"_SHUT UP." The both told him in sharp unison._

"_Just saying…" Pazy sounded hurt. "Expect all clichés." _

_And then someone emerged on the deck. It was Fast Freddy. He waved to them. "Don't worry! We'll rescue you!"_

_Jack and Rose whooped loudly, cheering. They hugged each other tight._

"_Oh crap." Pazy frowned. _

_Rose felt cold water. She looked down and realized the boat was rapidly filling with dark water. The ship wouldn't reach them in time! They were practically submerged already! _

"_Oh CRAP!" Jack stood up, repeating Pazy's sentiments._

"_Start bailing!" Rose panicked. She scrambled for something to bail with. There was absolutely nothing._

"_Where's your helmet?" Jack screamed at Pazy. _

"_Not here." Pazy didn't waste words. They were preparing to swim._

_The boat was underwater beneath them and totally useless now. They started swimming. _

"_The waves are too strong!" Rose tried to shout, but got a mouthful of cold salt water instead. The waves were drowning them and pulling them apart…She couldn't get to Jack… he was drifting far away… They were drowning!_

"_Oh man!" Pazy choked on water, struggling to stay afloat. "You guys just really aren't meant to be together, eh?"_

Rose woke with a start. Fast Freddy was shaking her. "Your number was just called."

"Oh... OH!" Rose bolted out of the chair. "Thanks, Freddy."

"Good luck." The cowboy frowned uneasily. "Fingers crossed for ya, darlin'…"

And then Rose remembered what being summoned meant. She was in trouble over the damn bracelet, over breaking the rules again. She was already on thin ice. Would she blame Pazy? Or would she accept the consequences? Whose fault was it anyway?

"Calvert." Her name was repeated sternly by the receptionist.

"I'm coming…" Rose swallowed anxiously.

**oooooooo**

_A/N:__ Thanks so much for reading this! Reviews are extremely appreciated. They definitely motivate me to plug away…_

_I apologize for any typos or mistakes. I do edit, but I always tend to miss things regardless. I've noticed little errors in past chapters. _

_For those who skip the Disclaimer and A/N at the start of each chapter – I have given Tim Burton full credit for the elements taken from __**Beetlejuice**__. I've been getting comments about the similarities and so I wanted to clarify that they are intentional and that I've given the proper credit. (I haven't put it in the official story description because I don't want to give the wrong impression – wacky comedy, crossover, etc.) Thank you kindly! :D _


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